


Blackout and Silver Stars

by psyraah



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bands, Bassist Lance, Drummer Pidge, Emotionally Manipulative Sendak, Fluff, Frontman Shiro, General Angel Hunk, Guitarist Allura, Happy Ending, M/M, Manager Coran, Mild Angst, Roadie Keith, Sheith Big Bang 2017, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-10
Updated: 2017-09-10
Packaged: 2018-12-25 22:03:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 65,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12045192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/psyraah/pseuds/psyraah
Summary: There really isn’t much more that Shiro can ask from life. He has a loving father, an amazing job, and his best friends touring the galaxies with him, playing their music to armies of dedicated fans. His job is wonderful and life is beautiful, so no, there really isn’t much more he can ask for.But he meets Keith anyway. Keith with the cute smile and his quiet humour, Keith with the little secrets and hidden shadows, guarded so closely that Shiro doesn’t want anything more than to protect him.Shiro hasn’t felt this out of his depth since he was seventeen, but he’s never heard a sweeter song.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> IT'S FINALLY OVER. Welcome to my Sheithy band AU, filled with unnecessary fluff and drama!! This is by far the longest thing I have ever written (and I know I said that about the last one but it's TRUE) and I'm very proud to be sharing it finally :)
> 
> Thank you to Law for being a wonderful artist and for speed drawing because I'm a mess who runs far too close to deadlines. Please check out her posts for this on [Tumblr](http://daimeiwakuvld.tumblr.com/post/165181453065/some-art-i-drew-for-psyraah-s) and [Twitter](https://twitter.com/d4imeiwaku/status/906814869965606913), and please give her some love for all the beautiful illustrations throughout the work. I am so blessed to get so much beautiful art and I am BIG CRY ABOUT IT ALL. 
> 
> And a big thank you to Robert for all the support and enthusiasm, and for organising the whole shebang. You're the best. 
> 
> And to everyone who listened to me yell about this for months on end (including my sister who started this whole thing with a Rhys Darby reference), thank you thank you thank you. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy this, and please do let me know what you think. Comments are never ever unwelcome!
> 
> If you could also share on [Tumblr](http://shiroganedefencesquad.tumblr.com/post/165171835044/blackout-and-silver-stars-my-submission-for-the) and [Twitter](https://mobile.twitter.com/starchydreams/status/906708129299128320) I would be very grateful ❤️

The final chords of the song fell away into nothing, and all that was left was Shiro’s voice, carrying into the hearts of each of the twenty-thousand people filling the stadium. It rung out, clear, heartfelt, and true, captivating the audience. Though Shiro’s eyes were closed, he could feel all their love, and that of his band mates like warm embers in the dark.

Not that he needed any more warmth at the moment. He was dripping sweat, the stage lights burning along the back of his neck, and his mouth was as dry as the desert. But still, he hung onto the note as long as he could. When he finally let it fade away, screams and cheers filled the void instead.

Panting, Shiro opened his eyes, smiling as he saw the vast sea of people before him, with their glow sticks, ‘ _I <3 VOLTRON’ _signs and all their love. Giant screens hung from the sides of the stage, and Shiro’s smile only grew wider when he saw his face up there.

“Thank you for letting us share that with you,” he said, voice echoing around the stadium. “It’s incredible to be here with you tonight, we love you so much.” More cheers, and Shiro took the opportunity for a small break, fumbling with the cap of his water bottle and tipping water down his throat. Swiping the back of his hand across his mouth, he turned to their audience again.

“We’ve been playing for a bit now, how about I introduce my best friends to you?” More cheers and applause, and Shiro grinned. “Let me say I’m the luckiest guy in the world. Get to make music, see you beautiful people, travel with the best band there is. To my right, clutching that stunning turquoise guitar, we have the smartest person I know. Seriously, name any universe, any galaxy, and she can list pretty much every star, planet, and moon within it—in size order.” Beside him, said smartest person in existence rolled her eyes, but Shiro was too high on the energy that crackled in the air to care. “Plus she plays some mean guitar. Give it up for my right-hand lady, my oldest friend, and Voltron’s guitarist, Allura!”

Wild applause and cheers met his announcement, and Allura bowed, her silver hair glittering under the stage lights. As the noise died down, Shiro wiped sweat from his brow with the back of his hand, and then gestured to his left.

“Years ago, two stars had wild sex when they were floating around in space. Stars are pretty damn hot, with all that gas or whatever, so when two of them get together, you know you’re gonna get something pretty crazy. So tonight, we mortal beings are lucky to have with us the hottest being on this planet or any other, our best bassist and worst flirt, Lance!”

At the final part of his introduction, Lance stuck his tongue out in Shiro’s direction, but Shiro just rolled his eyes as the applause went on. Had Lance really thought that telling Shiro to call him the hottest being ever would go unpunished?

“And last, but never least, the youngest member of our band of misfits. Rumour has it that she burst out of a rock, fully formed at age seventeen, and hasn’t grown a day older since. Achievements include being the shortest member of our group, being able to pull off a cartwheel, and having the undefeated Tetris high score for three years now. Our very own lean, green, drumming machine, Katie!”

More loud cheers and applause, and Shiro didn’t think the grin would ever leave his face. His cheeks hurt with how hard he was smiling, despite the fact that his lungs felt like they were about to give out. But he was the front man and everything, so it was a small price to pay for this electricity running through his veins.

Shiro was _happy_. He laughed because he couldn’t help it, couldn’t _believe_ his luck. God, wasn’t the way that the cheers echoed around the stadium just mind-blowing?

“We’ve never played a stadium show before,” he told the crowd. “And wow, let me tell you, you guys are absolutely gorgeous.” Slowly, the noise built: first some scattered applause and cheering from those in the mosh pit, the most excited of them all. Then, gradually the sound swung around the stadium, building into a roar, filling Shiro’s heart until he thrummed with the noise. Next to him, Allura was grinning, beautiful and bright, and Shiro could see universes being born in the way that Lance smiled and whooped, supernovas exploding from the cymbal crashes that Katie fired out to add to the noise.

There was a wild cheer as Allura played the opening riff to their first hit, the one that had brought them all here. It carried on and on, Katie joining in, and then Lance, the deep hum of the Lance’s bass rocking the floor and pounding with the beat of Shiro’s heart. The familiar notes filled his ears, and Shiro nodded along as he brought the microphone to his lips. He took a deep breath, and the crowd and the stars breathed with him as the soft sound echoed through the stadium.

“Oh, and I’m Shiro.”

And he sang.


	2. Chapter 2

**_Three years later_ **

****

“All right kids, gather around. Band meeting!”

Coran’s voice rang out in the kitchen area of their Castle Ship. He was seated imperiously at the head of their dining table, Allura and Lance on one side, Pidge and Shiro lining the other.

“Coran, you don’t really have to tell us to gather ‘round when we’re already here,” Lance pointed out, tapping his fingers against the tabletop. “It’s kinda pointless.”

“Ceremony is important, as you should well appreciate by now, Lance,” Coran said. He shuffled his papers—also in an imperious fashion—before seeming to find the sheet that he needed. “Allura.”

“Here,” she said, and caught Shiro’s eye. She raised an eyebrow, and tilted her head towards Lance, whose gaze was wandering out the window.

“Lance.”

Silence.

Coran looked up and glared at Lance.

“Lance.”

“Well, yeah,” Lance said. “I’m clearly here!”

“You didn’t answer the roll!”

“You can _see_ me!”

“Irrelevant, Lance,” Coran said. “Even I do it. See? Coran.” He kept his eyes on Lance the entire time he slowly marked the sheet with his pen. “Present.”

Lance raised his hands in surrender. “Fine, fine. I’m here.”

“Wait a minute, I haven’t called your name yet.”

“You just did!”

“But you ignored me. Let’s try again. Lance.”

“Here.”

“Brilliant! Pidge.”

“Yep,” Pidge said, grinning as she rocked back in her seat and sipped on her juice.

“And Shiro.”

“Right here, Coran.”

“Wonderful!” His beloved procedural matters out of the way, Coran set aside his papers, and picked up his tablet. Shiro raised his hand to cover his smile. Of course everything that Coran needed—schedules, rosters, lists keeping track of all their instruments—was on the tablet, backed up in several different locations, and password locked. Voltron’s esteemed, moustachioed manager would never leave their most important information and documents on something so fragile as paper. But the roll, despite his words, was not something that Coran felt all that strongly about. Shiro highly suspected he just liked the ritual of it all, especially when Lance gave him trouble about it pretty much every day.

“As you all know, this will be the first time doing any extended intergalactic space travel. That’s why keeping track of everyone is so incredibly important,” Coran said, looking pointedly at Lance, who just rolled his eyes. “We’ll be taking off in three hours and fifty-seven minutes. The crew are scheduled to join us in fifty-seven minutes. And on that note, where’s—”

The door slammed open, and a man crashed into the room. “Sorry, sorry, sorry I’m late! Coran please don’t kill me, I promise it was something bad. Like, _super_ bad.”

Broad-shouldered, orange band wrapped around his head, and with a smile that looked like a supernova (though that was missing at present), Hunk collapsed in a chair, before dragging it over to join the rest of them at the table. “ _Crazy_ emergency,” he continued. “One of the rooms didn’t have a bed. We bought this Castle Ship thing like, six months ago and the guy _promised_ me it was fully furnished. How is it fully furnished if we’re missing a bed?” In a final gesture of surrender, Hunk threw his arms up in the air.

“Hunk, calm down,” Shiro said. “I’m sure we can work it out. I thought we had too many rooms?” Shiro glanced over at Coran, who nodded. “Then it doesn’t really matter, right?”

“Well…” Hunk chewed on his lip, and turned those huge puppy eyes on Shiro. But when Shiro didn’t cave, he simply sighed. “I guess not. But it’s the _principle_. You shouldn’t promise eighty beds when there’s only seventy-nine.”

“I’m sure it’s fine, but we appreciate your attention to detail.” Shiro smiled, and pushed a bowl of potato chips across the table to Hunk. “Seriously, thanks. We’re glad to have you along looking after us.”

“No problem, dude,” Hunk said, and grabbed a handful of chips. Grinning, he crunched away. “Happy to be along for the ride. Everything else is good. Amps are stacked and packed, instruments and effects all good. And most importantly, the kitchen is ready.”

“Thanks, Hunk,” Shiro said warmly. “We couldn’t keep everything running for something this big without you.” Although they’d originally hired Hunk as head chef for their first ever tour, over the years, he’d evolved into something so much more. Making sure Voltron and their crew were well-fed and watered was still Hunk’s favourite part of the job, but now he was also Coran’s right-hand man in all administrative matters as well.

Not that you would be able to tell that he was managing a Castle full of people on an intergalactic music tour, with how relaxed he looked now that he’d gotten validation on the bed situation. “It’s pretty exciting, this whole space tour thing,” Hunk said, going for his second handful of chips. “The Castle’s pretty crazy to start with, so this is gonna be great fun.”

“Well, I’m glad everything’s going smoothly,” Coran said. “The crew is settled, and we’ll want to speak with them as a group before we depart. I’ve organised for them all to go to dining room in a few dobashes, so we better get moving.”

As always, Shiro needed to consciously convert Coran’s Altean measurements to more-or-less Earth-speak (maths was not his strong suit; he wasn’t ­ _actually_ going to calculate to two decimal points). After trying that for a second or two, he gave up. However long it was, they had a few minutes, and they needed to get going.

Shiro stood, pushing his chair back, stretching a little. “Guess we better get going then.” The others followed suit, Lance swiping one last chip before Coran grabbed the bowl to take it away.

Shiro turned to his band mates, his team, his best friends. “Well, this is it.” He smiled at each of them in turn: Lance with his wide grin, Allura and her soft smile, Pidge and Hunk paying attention for once instead of fiddling with some device or another, and Coran, his pile of notes pristine, his tablet spick and span. “I’m sure I don’t really need to say how much this means to me—”

“—but you’re gonna do it anyway?” Lance asked.

Shiro smiled, having nothing but affection for the other man. “No. ‘Cause I’m pretty sure you all know how I feel, and that you feel exactly the same way I do. So I just wanted to thank you for being here with me.” He smiled gently at the lot of them. “It means a lot.”

“Aw, Shiro, you’re gonna make us cry,” Pidge said wryly.

“It’s true,” he said simply. “I love you guys.”

Pidge and Lance groaned, but Coran and Hunk both looked like they were on the verge of tears. Allura, to her credit, simply smiled. “And we love you as well.”

To his right, Hunk sniffed. “That’s really nice, Shiro. Okay, okay, let’s bring it in.” He opened his arms wide, looking overcome with emotion. “Hug time.”

“Hug time,” Shiro agreed, and he moved quickly so that he could sandwich Pidge between himself and Hunk, before she escaped.

“Hey!” she yelled, somewhere near his sternum, voice muffled. “Why do you _always_ pick on me?”

“You’re small,” Shiro said with a grin. “It’s funny.”

“Shiro,” Allura said, though a smile was tugging at her own lips. “Don’t be cruel.”

“I, for one, think it’s rather sweet how you show affection,” Coran said with a happy sigh, wrapping his own arms around the bundle of his band. “I’m sure Number Five appreciates it.”

“Yeah, I _guess_ ,” Pidge said, but Shiro could hear the fondness in her voice. It was only confirmed when she wriggled her arms out so hug him back, before yanking on the zipper of his vest playfully. “Can we go now, please?”

Shiro laughed, drawing away. “All right, all right. Let’s not keep the others waiting then.” He zipped up his vest properly once more. “Let’s get this show on the road.”

And they could have left it at that, but determined to have the last word, Lance let out a whoop before leaping out of the room.

“Intergalactic space tour here we come!”

* * *

 Their dining room was very full by the time they got there. There were are five long tables lining the room, enough to fit everyone around for the many meals they would inevitably eat here. However, right now it was full of people milling about, and the gaps between the tables weren’t quite enough to comfortably accommodate this amount of people standing about. Sound technicians, the lighting team, and various members of the crew who looked after the band’s instruments and general set-up—amongst other things—crowded the room. The crowding issue could have been solved by people just, well, sitting, but there was the tension in the air that came from a bunch of strangers being suddenly united with a common goal, and no one seemed ready to take the first step.

It was that weird tension that had the entire room fall silent—with one girl awkwardly continuing her conversation before realising what happened—almost as soon as the band entered. They walked in awkward silence to an empty spot at the side of the room, the crowd parting hurriedly as they weaved their way through. Some faces were familiar, Voltron having worked with them before, but many weren’t; they hadn’t ever had a tour this size.

It was only one they got there that Shiro realised that they could see only those at the very front, and no one else.

“Um, maybe it’s better if everyone sits down.” He smiled, hoping to ease some of the tension. “Would probably make things a bit easier if you could all see us.”

The silence in the room shattered abruptly, and suddenly there were the footsteps of many pairs—or other groupings—of feet, the groan of chairs being dragged along tiles bouncing off the high ceiling. A light chatter had started again, though nowhere near the cacophony that had greeted them when they had first entered the room.

“What’d you do that for?” Lance asked out the corner of his mouth. “Now they’re going to take ages to sit down.”

“Less awkward than a good portion of them trying to peer over the shoulder of the Galra in the front,” Shiro answered. “And it’s more likely that they’ll actually be able to hear what we’re saying and that this won’t be a huge waste of time.”

Lance grinned. “And that’s why you’re the leader, man.”

Shiro glared at him. “As if you couldn’t figure that one out on your own.”

“Nah, I just needed to look like I was talking, ‘cause I _hate_ just standing here awkwardly, especially when we’re the centre of attention.”

“We do that all the time during a gig.”

“Different.” Lance shrugged. “I’m ready for that, and I’ve usually got my guitar to fiddle with. Here? Only got you, big guy, and I’ve got to settle with using what I got.”

Allura came up next to them, leaning an arm on Lance’s head. “Do you think that there’ll be some cute ones in this group?” she asked, glancing around. “Perhaps that will give Lance enough of a distraction to have him quieten down for a few days, at least. The noise on this trip will be interminable otherwise.”

Shiro grinned, and Lance squawked. “I’m not sure, Allura. Something which can stop Lance talking for almost a year? That’s a tall order.”

“Surely in a pool of almost one hundred inhabitants, we can find someone for Lance?”

Shiro squinted his eyes at the crowd, the task of trying to pick out faces made difficult by the sheer size of the group. “He already tried with Nyma—”

“I’m right here, Shiro,” Lance said, dejected. “You don’t have to remind me. It was a painful time.”

“—and failed. What about…two o’clock. Galra, long hair, undercut.”

Lance made a thinking noise. “Too tall. They’d squash me like a bug, Shiro. A little Lance cockroach.”

“All right then…table behind them, black hair, red jacket. He’s kinda cute. The one next to Rolo.” Shiro couldn’t really see much of him, what with people still settling into their seats, but the guy stood out mostly because he wasn’t talking to anyone else. Just sitting next to Rolo and offering an occasional smile as he listened. A cute smile, so maybe Lance would be into that.

Lance snorted. “Shiro, just ‘cause he’s you’re type doesn’t mean I’ll be into him.” Okay, busted. “Anyway, not really looking to date at the moment,” Lance continued, stretching. “Sorry, Allura, you’re just gonna have to put up with me.”

Allura sighed, long and fatigued, but she was smiling as she hooked her arm around Lance’s shoulders. “What a shame,” she said, bumping their heads together. “Guess I only have myself to blame. I knew perfectly well what I had signed up for when we decided to form Voltron.”

Lance laughed, tugging at her arm as she shape-shifted so that she engulfed him. “Aw, c’mon, Lura. You love me.” He made little kissy faces at her, and she tugged on his hair.

“No such thing.”

Shiro grinned at the two of them, Allura getting bigger by the minute and attracting the stares of lots of their crew as she grew to almost twice Lance’s height. “C’mon,” Lance whined. “Please love me.”

“Absolutely not.” But the way that Allura picked him up to swing him around, laughing freely, told a different story.

Someone cleared their throat loudly, and Shiro glanced to his right to see Coran standing with his hands behind his back, looking pointedly at Allura. She put Lance down and grinned back, shrinking right down so she was only about the height of Lance’s chest, putting a finger to her lips.

“Well, now that we’re settled, thank you all for attending,” Coran began, and Shiro didn’t feel the need to point out that everyone was contractually obligated to come. “We’ll be departing in just over one Earth hour. But before that, we’ll just be running through a few housekeeping matters to ensure that everything on this ship will run smoothly!”

Shiro looked down when someone touched his arm, and found Pidge clinging to it, swinging it back and forth. When Coran paused—as if someone would let out an excited cheer at the thought of housekeeping—Shiro glanced at Pidge, who smirked up at him. They loved Coran, and his little habits had become endearing more than they would be annoying.

When—predictably—no one started applauding, Coran continued with a huff. “Firstly, you’ve all been assigned your rooms. If you are having issues with your rooming situation, please contact myself or Hunk, who will be in charge of the smooth running of this expedition. Second will be the matter of travel. You all have a copy of the tour schedule. We will be travelling by teludav to the appropriate galaxies, but once we reach those, we will simply be proceeding as normal on this ship. This is so as not to exhaust Allura, who will be in charge of the wormhole travel, as well as performing.”

Allura smiled. “I told you I would be perfectly fine, Coran.”

“Which is simply preposterous.” Coran huffed again, tugging lightly on his moustache. “Despite Allura’s protestations, we will be proceeding as I have just detailed. It will add time to the schedule, but it is for the best. We will let you know when any wormhole travel occurs, though this is simply to ensure that everyone is secured on board the ship. When we arrive at our destinations, you are free to enter and exit as you wish, as long as you are prepared for any meetings or performances or rehearsals. You have all been provided a schedule including meals, and I reckon that covers most of the important items! We will be departing shortly, and we ask that you remain inside the ship until that time so we don’t lose anyone. We wouldn’t want that now!”

He chuckled to himself, and Shiro let out a huff of laughter at how irrepressible he was. “Of course, if there are any questions, I am always available, as is Hunk.” Coran pointed at their resident engineer, chef, and all-around angel. “Anything I’ve forgotten, team?”

Shiro glanced at his band mates, who all shook their heads. “No, I think that’s all, Coran. Though I did want to acknowledge the work that Coran and Hunk have put into organising this whole tour.” He raised his voice so the rest of the room could hear. “You can all imagine that it’s not easy organising something of this scale, and the two of them have done an amazing job. We look forward to see their hard work pay off in the next few months, as well as work with all of you. It should be a great tour, and thank you for joining the Voltron team.” He finished by grinning widely at the crowd, hoping that they wouldn’t have too much trouble with them. You had problems in any industry, but being so long in space and far away from Earth meant that any issues wouldn’t be so easily resolved, so Shiro hoped that the crew they hired was a good one.

Coran nodded in acknowledgement. “Again, any questions can be directed at myself or Hunk, or one of the band members. Now, I believe that will be all! Dismissed!”

The effect was immediate: the scraping of chairs against the hard flooring, and the rise of the chatter like an expanding cloud. “What’re you guys doing before lift off?” Lance asked.

Pidge shrugged. “I might just see if Hunk needs help with anything else.”

“You two can help prepare for the wormhole jump, if you’ve both finished with your other tasks?” Allura asked Shiro and Lance.

Shiro nodded, and Lance shrugged. “Got nothing else to do,” Lance said. “Lead the way.”

The three of them started making their way through the crowd, which was starting to slowly flow towards the exit. Very, very slowly. Shiro hoped that the crew was faster than this when they were actually working.

“You called your family goodbye yet, Lance?” Shiro asked as they shuffled along.

“Yeah,” Lance said, getting jostled slightly by two Balmerans. “Parents are probably more excited than me at this stage, but they made me promise to call at least once a day. Which I was going to do anyway,” he grumbled, but his expression was fond. “One of my little cousins was over when I called, and she wanted me to bring her back a Balmeran crystal, and I had to explain that those things were kinda rare, and kinda special. Ended up having to bribe her with an autograph from Pidge.”

Shiro raised an eyebrow. “Pidge signing a piece of paper is as precious as a thousand year old Balmeran crystal?”

Lance rolled his eyes. “You know how much of a fan club she gets.” He fluttered his eyelashes and beamed in what Shiro assumed was meant to be a fan-like way at the ceiling. “‘She’s the youngest person in the band! Did you know that her real name is Katie and Pidge is just her stage name?’ And I’m like, yes, Lara, I know. I’ve been in a band with her for years now.”

Allura chuckled. “And it never occurred to you that she might simply be having you on?”

“Yeah, _duh_. But she’s like, eleven. She’s still at that age where you can’t bully her too much. So I’ll just get Pidge to sign a scrap of paper and when we get ba—ow!”

“You’re just jealous ‘cause you don’t have a cool stage name, Lance,” Pidge said flatly.

“Hey, Lance _is_ a cool name, all right? It’s got style, it’s short, sweet—”

“Stupid,” Pidge muttered.

“—and sharp.”

“Guys, settle down,” Shiro said, aware that some of the crew was starting to look at them with a mixture of confusion and awkwardness. He hoped the awkwardness would go away after a while; it always took a day or two for people to start thawing out, and see them as regular people rather than superstars or as employers. So they needed to be as non-threatening as possible, and having anyone labelled as a diva or troublemaker in the first few hours of their time on the ship wasn’t going to help at all. “Let’s just get moving. Pidge, weren’t you helping Hunk?”

“Got stuck behind all these tall people,” she grumbled. “Worst.”

Shiro was about to reply, when someone tapped him on the shoulder. “Um, excuse me?” He turned at the unfamiliar voice to see who was talking to him.

Long hair drawn back in a ponytail, and standing a little shorter than Shiro so that Shiro had to look down, and—ah, the guy from before that Shiro had pointed out as a potential partner for Lance. Which was kind of embarrassing, but the guy didn’t need to know that.

Shiro smiled his brightest smile so he could feel better about the whole thing. “Hey…?”

The guy didn’t return the greeting, just gave him the smallest smile, and pointed at the ground. “I think you dropped something.”

Shiro glanced down in the direction he was pointing in, spotting a small pink tube. His lip balm, he realised after a moment. “Oh, right, thanks.” But when he reached down to grab it, someone’s leathery tail trailed across the floor and flicked it away.

Shiro blinked at the sudden disappearance, glancing around. But amongst the shuffling feet and claws and shifting shadows, he couldn’t really see where a tube that was hardly the size of his finger had gone. Plus he felt a bit awkward half-crouched over while a crowd of people was trying to exit the room.

“You guys go on ahead,” he said to the others, straightening up. “I dropped by lip balm, just need to grab it.”

“All right, see you in a bit.” Pidge waved over her shoulder, unbothered, and the others smiled and left along with her.

Shiro hung back, trying to make his way through the crowd of people to plaster himself against the wall as much as possible. It was only then that he realised that ponytail boy was following him, coming to stand next to him as Shiro pressed himself up against a table so that others could pass.

“You don’t really have to help me find it, you know,” Shiro said with a smile, raising his voice slightly to be heard over the chatter. “I don’t think it’ll be terribly hard once the floor is cleared out.”

But to Shiro’s surprise, the guy shook his head, and held up a hand. A small orange tube was trapped between his fingers. “Managed to grab it before it rolled away again.”

 

Shiro grinned, happily accepting the item. “You must have pretty sharp reflexes; I lost sight of it pretty quick.”

The guy shrugged, the corner of his mouth lifting a little. “Guess I got lucky?”

“I think I’m the lucky one for you to have spotted it. I’ve only got a couple, and I need them to last the rest of the trip.” He waggled his eyebrows conspiratorially. “They only have this orange flavoured one on Earth, so I’m glad I didn’t lose it.” He slid it into his pocket, patting it contently.

The other guy laughed. It was slightly awkward and a little nervous, but his smile widened and his shoulders seemed to relax a bit. “Well, I’m glad I could save you from having to live without orange-flavoured lip balm.”

“The whole team owes you one,” Shiro said. “I would’ve complained for the rest of the trip.”

“Should get a pay rise,” the guy said solemnly, and the way he widened his eyes in an expression of innocence was great.

“I’ll look into it,” Shiro said, equally serious.

But then the guy shrugged. “Contractor. But I appreciate the thought.”

Shiro sighed. “Ah well, I guess I tried. I’m Shiro, by the way,” he said, offering his hand.

The guy raised an eyebrow, but clasped his hand, his grip solid. “Like I didn’t know who you were. I’m Keith.”

“And what makes you think I don’t know who you are?”

Keith chuckled, letting go of Shiro’s hand. It was a bit awkward again, as though he weren’t quite sure if Shiro were joking or not. “I’m not really anybody,” he said. “Definitely not an intergalactic superstar”

Shiro shrugged. “Still important. I mean, I didn’t actually know you, but maybe I should’ve. What do you do anyway?”

“Ah, help out with the guitars and amps and stuff. Just the manual stuff really.”

“Wait, you’re one of the stage crew?”

“Uh, I guess?”

Shiro grinned. “I’ll be seeing a lot of you then. I assume you’re heading out? Unless you wanted to hang around in the dining room until lift off.”

“No, that wasn’t my plan.”

Shiro gestured at the door, and they headed outside. “Not mine either. Do you know where your room is?”

Keith shook his head, his ponytail flopping back and forth. If they hadn’t just met, Shiro might’ve been tempted to give it a tug; it was just short enough to be cute, a tiny sprig of hair that curled gently at the tips. “Coran gave us allocations, but I haven’t actually looked up where it is.”

Shiro pulled out his phone, bringing up Coran’s admin documents. “What number?” he asked, scrolling through to find the maps.

“Uh, think he said twenty-seven? But I can find it by myself—”

“Well, seeing as I’ve located it now, why don’t I help you out?” Shiro asked, putting his phone away once he’d identified the correct room. It was important that the crew learned to relax around the band, since they were going to be cooped up together living in the same place for months on end. Although some of the more experienced crew members would be fine, Shiro wanted everyone to settle in as soon as possible.

Keith, thankfully, relented. “All right then,” he said, sounding resigned. But he was smiling all the same, and Shiro counted that as a victory. “Lead the way then.”

They trotted down the corridor, Keith following behind as Shiro led him through the various hallways that glowed with turquoise lights.

“You been on a tour before?” Shiro asked.

Keith shook his head. It wasn’t too surprising; Keith did look like one of the younger people on board. Probably around Lance and Allura’s age. “I didn’t even realise I’d be doing tour work this time around. I usually just help out in the studio that my boss runs.”

“You’re one of Sendak’s contractors, right?” Shiro clarified. Voltron had previously engaged a core team consisting largely of very experienced Galra, but a tour this size had required a few extra hands. Sendak’s company was one that had provided those hands.

(When Coran had said “more hands”, Shiro had said that he’d be more than happy to order another Galra-developed prosthetic. When he’d waved his own prosthetic hand with a grin, Pidge had kicked him in the shins.)

Keith nodded. “Yeah,” he said. He shoved his hands into his pockets and his gaze fell to the ground as they continued walking. “One of Sendak’s.”

“You excited, then?” Shiro prompted, when Keith didn’t say anything further.

Keith looked up at Shiro and blinked, as though he’d forgotten Shiro was there. Then he smiled, though the action looked a bit stiff even if it was wide and toothy. “Ah, sorry. Long day. And yeah, I’m looking forward to it.” His smile relaxed, and it eased some of Shiro’s tension too. “I’ve never left my town, really. I did mostly studio stuff, but this time when Sen—when they were putting the team together, we were missing a person. One of our staff was on parental leave, and we forgot.”

Shiro whistled. “Nice. Luck of the draw.”

Keith let out a breath. “I guess. But it means I’ll only be here for part of the tour.”

Shiro frowned. “Why’s that? How much earlier would you leave?”

Keith hesitated. “‘Bout a month out from the last show?”

“Might just be easier to keep you on, in that case,” Shiro mused. “I mean, if you’re staying for eight of the nine months anyway, might be more troublesome to send you home. If you’d want to stay.”

Keith bit his lip. “Um. I’d—I think Sendak might have other work lined up for me. Maybe.”

Shiro shrugged. “We can work it out. I think Sendak would be fine if I explained that the band—”

“Let’s talk about it closer to the date,” Keith interrupted. “We can forget about it for now. Flying to outer space is gonna be pretty cool, hey?”

Shiro resisted the urge to narrow his eyes in suspicion at the obvious attempt to change the topic. Outwardly he kept his demeanour pleasant; if Keith didn’t want to talk about his contractual arrangements—which was fair enough—then Shiro wasn’t going to force him, especially not after they’d only just met.

“Yeah, I’m pretty excited,” Shiro said, happy to talk about space all day. “I haven’t been off-planet much; one or two gigs, and then a couple of times to Altea to visit Allura and Coran’s families.” He smiled. “It’ll be great to see different galaxies, and some of the planets and landmarks that I’ve only read about.”

Keith grinned. “I know what you mean. I’ve always wanted to visit Altea. They’ve got some of the most advanced flight technology in history. I’d love to see it,” he said wistfully.

“Yeah, well they built this Castle Ship, so they’ve got something going for them definitely. I learnt to fly one of their ships just last year, actually.”

Oh, now _there_ was a smile. Bright and radiant, lighting up Keith’s whole face. “Really? That’s awesome, how was it? Had you flown before? Who taught you?”

Shiro laughed at Keith’s enthusiasm. “One of the best days of the my life. No, I hadn’t flown before, which was why Allura bullied me into going with her. Not that I regret it though; it was heaps of fun. They’ve got these...oceans, I guess, except it’s not water. It’s a bit thicker, and it floats when the temperature is just right. Most _amazing_ thing, weaving in and out amongst floating waves of bubbles.”

“That sounds gorgeous,” Keith said softly. Shiro wondered if the distant look in his eye was because he could picture it too.

“It is,” he agreed. “If we have some spare time when we get to Altea, I can see if Allura will let us take a ship out for a spin.”

“You’d be able to take me?”

“Yeah, if you want.”

“But I’m not a part of the band.”

Shiro raised an eyebrow. “Why would that matter?”

“I—” Keith opened his mouth, then closed it. “That’d be cool, if we’ve got time later.”

Shiro smiled. “I’ll try to make sure of it.” He slowed, before squinting at the number on a door. “Looks like this is you.”

Keith nodded, pressing his palm to the reader in front of the door, the door sliding open at the touch. “Looks that way.” When he looked to Shiro, he smiled softly, and Shiro was glad that Keith had managed to relax in the five or so minutes since they’d met. “Thanks for helping me find it. You really didn’t have to.”

Shiro shrugged. “We’re going to be living together for a while. Was nice to get to know a little bit about you.”

“Still, was nice of you.” Keith stepped inside the doorway, and waved. “Guess I’ll be seeing you around then?”

“Yeah, I can’t exactly leave,” Shiro said with a grin. “You get settled in, we’ll be taking off soon but you shouldn’t need to worry about that too much. I’ll catch you later.”

“See you, Shiro.” Keith’s smile was the last thing Shiro saw before the door slid shut, and he couldn’t help but smile as well. One new friend. That was a start.

He headed back to the control centre to find the others, hurrying slightly seeing as he’d spent so much time with Keith.

“There you are, Shiro.” Allura was the one to greet him when he finally arrived, standing in the middle of their control room. She’d fixed her hair so it was in a bun now, high on her head and out of the way, the way Shiro knew she liked it when she piloted the ship.

“Yeah, yeah, sorry. Got caught up.” He slowed as he approached, looking around. Lance was leaning against the wall, grinning as he chatted to Coran. The room looked prepared for take-off, or close to it. The lights were dim, and maps of various parts of galaxies—their own and those of their destinations—were projected around them, blue lines tracing through the air. “Anything you still need help with?”

Allura shook her head. “No, we’re pretty much ready to leave. We were just waiting on you.”

“Ah, sorry about that,” Shiro said, a little sheepishly. “Got caught up talking to someone.”

“It’s okay,” Allura said with a smile. “He seemed nice. Nice enough to risk being stampeded to rescue your orange lip balm.”

“Very nice,” Shiro said gravely. “Far nicer than my band mates and supposed friends who just keep laughing at me for having orange-flavoured lip balm.”

“It’s _gross_ , Shiro,” Lance piped up from behind, bumping his hip against Shiro’s. “Like, _seriously_ gross.”

“I’m afraid I’ll have to agree with Lance on this one,” Allura said. “But enough of that,” she continued, before Shiro had even opened his mouth to argue. It was unfair, but she was piloting the expedition, so Shiro had to settle for a glare. “We should be heading off now. Coran, are we all ready and accounted for?”

“Yes! Ready whenever you are, Allura.”

“All right, stand back everybody.”

Shiro herded Lance away from the platform in the middle of the room, where Allura stood. Once he’d gotten a little too curious and tripped over his feet, bumping Allura so that they ended up in a distant galaxy without a valid visa, and that hadn’t been fun.

“Okay, we’re all clear,” Shiro said.

“Setting coordinates,” Allura announced, hands working the controls nimbly.

“Coordinates set,” Coran replied. “Locked in and ready to go.”

This was it. Shiro’s heart skipped a beat as he looked at Lance, who was bouncing excitedly on his feet. Pidge and Hunk were sitting on the floor, watching Allura and Coran work, massive grins on their faces. This was it: years of work, frustration, tears, and standing side-by-side with his friends, and they were embarking on their first intergalactic tour. Life couldn’t get more perfect than this.

In the middle of the room, Allura smiled wildly, placing her hands on the dome in front of her.

“Then it’s time to get this show on the road.”


	3. Chapter 3

Arus was a relatively small planet, but not one that was too unlike Earth. The atmosphere was similar enough that no one needed any additional medication or apparatus before walking outside, and it was full of wide, sweeping plains and forests. Those had given way to towns and cities as the Voltron ship approached the destination of their first show, but it was still a beautiful planet to start off with. The days were longer here, which meant that Keith got to stay for longer in the sun. It was pleasantly warm, even as they worked to set up the stage for tonight’s show, and he enjoyed having it against his skin.

It would be a gorgeous night. The late dusk meant that the brilliant orange and stunning pinks that lit up the sky would still be around when the show started in just under three hours, and Keith envied the crowd that would get to the see the colours of the sky as the backdrop to the lights and excitement from the stage.

“Good location,” he commented to Rolo as he heaved an amp across the stage.

“Yeah,” Rolo said with a grunt, looking out at where the audience would be. “I’ll say.” They’d set up a stage in the middle of a valley, ordinarily reserved for such events, or so Coran had explained when they’d arrived. A wide, circular platform floated just a little bit above the hard-packed ground, a huge Balmeran crystal glowing in its centre. Cables snaked out from the crystal to hook up to their various amps and lighting and other equipment, instruments set up and ready for Voltron’s dramatic entrance tonight.

The valley itself was _massive_. They’d drawn a good chunk of the Arusian population, and then other fans from neighbouring planets, and Keith had heard that the crowd would be a hundred and eighty thousand, or close to it. Arus wasn’t a huge planet, but the band had looked at the venue and gone ‘why not’ when faced with the prospect of a single show and a record crowd attendance. Rows and rows of seats had been embedded into the walls of the valley, transforming the place into a stadium. Drones were already floating around the edges of the stadium, carrying giant screens to broadcast the band to those who weren’t close enough to see.

“Hey, Keith.” Keith looked up at Rolo, who was flicking around with what looked like a switchboard at the base of the crystal. Rolo had his usual smirk, gesturing at the board as he chewed on a toothpick. “Come check this out.”

Curious, Keith placed the amp in position before going over. “What’s up?”

“Gonna have fire going off tonight,” Rolo said, eyes bright. “See, they’re gonna get to the end of _Brace Yourself_ , the red comes up—” He flicked a switch, glancing around the valley as it was doused in red light. “—Shiro does the long high note thing, lights out, blackout—” He flicked the same switch, and the red dropped away, as did all the lights on stage except for the crystal. “Then, boom.” He pointed at another blue button. “Fire’s gonna come shooting right around the edge of the stage, but I’m not gonna do that now ‘cause we’re still here.”

“Man, that’s gonna be great. What about the crystal?”

“What about it?”

“Won’t it kinda ruin your ‘blackout’ if it’s just pulsing like a big blue torch?”

Rolo grinned. “See, you’re clever. I always tell you that.” Before Keith could protest it, Rolo pointed at another button. “Smoke machine, except this smoke is gonna be black and dense. Used to be used by Galra military before it made its way onto the market. It’ll cover up anything our friend here will glow.” He patted the crystal affectionately.

Keith whistled. “That’s cool. Seriously cool.” Galra tech was always light years ahead of anyone else, Alteans included. To think that something that had been developed by one of the most advanced races from one of their most advanced governmental departments, and they were using it for a pop concert? Beyond cool.

Rolo’s voice pulled him out of the open admiration. “So…you wanna help out tonight?”

Keith opened his mouth, eager, but then closed it again. “You know Sendak wouldn’t like that,” he muttered reluctantly. “Let the adults stick to the professional stuff.”

Rolo shrugged easily, but he watched Keith like a hawk. “He don’t gotta know. It’s just a button, Keith.”

But Keith shook his head, mind made up now. “Nah. I’ll stick to running the water bottles on stage. But thanks, appreciate it.”

He turned away before Rolo could suggest anything else, bending to scoop up a cable and letting it trail away behind him so he could plug it in. He didn’t want to think about what Rolo could show him, because whatever it was, Sendak wouldn’t be happy about it. Young boys who hadn’t even gotten a uni degree should stay away from complicated equipment. Keith had been told that enough times for it to stick, and he knew better than to piss Sendak off, even this far away from Earth.

So he’d just stick to the manual labour: untangling cables, plugging things in, carrying the instruments so that they’d be on hand when the band needed. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t, or wouldn’t, admire a good instrument and cool equipment when he came across it. The guitar he currently held in his hands was a real beauty—not flashy, or overly expensive, but a good, serviceable instrument. Keith had snuck around behind Sendak’s back (always carefully and only ever for short periods of time), and fumbled around with enough guitars, at least, to know what was good. And it wasn’t like Sendak could stop Keith from watching artists in the studio when he had to be _in_ the studio, and he couldn’t exactly stop Keith from observing, even if he was just taking coffee orders.

So Keith observed. Not enough to be an expert, but enough to know what was good, and what instrument he’d want if he were ever given half a chance.

And this gorgeous, acoustic beauty was something else: strap worn but repaired over and over, and little engravings of scattered flowers along the edges. The wood was solid against his palms as he hefted it out of its case to check it for damage in transit, though that was unlikely with all the care that Hunk put into everything. Even the case was very obviously a new one—not the original—and that told Keith that this instrument was well-loved, and cherished.

Humming the opening riff to one of Voltron’s songs, Keith replaced her gently, satisfied that she was in fine condition. He didn’t know off the top of his head who this one belonged to. Guitar meant either Allura or Shiro, but he hadn’t seen enough of Voltron to know which. Shiro didn’t often play, from what Keith had heard, not that Keith had any idea what any of their instruments looked like. There wasn’t a name on the top of the case when Keith shut it, snapping the clasps closed, so that didn’t help. But from what Keith had seen of Coran, there’d probably be a helpful sticker somewhere so that they’d be able to—

“Everything all right with her?”

Keith looked up. Well. Looked like he found the answer to his question.

Shiro stood next to him, beaming widely. He hadn’t changed into his concert gear yet, instead just wandering the stage in a blue tee and dark jeans. With a grunt, he crouched down next to Keith. “How’s everything going?”

Keith blinked.

What was Shiro doing? Didn’t he have more important preparations to be getting on with? Walking Keith back to his room when Shiro had had nowhere else to be was one thing—an unnecessary thing, but still understandable, seeing as Shiro had had time to kill. But there was a show to play soon—surely he should just check the guitar and go, not hunker down and look ready to actually talk.

Then Keith realised that they weren’t actually talking—because he hadn’t said anything.

“Ah, hey.”

Shiro kept smiling. “Keith, right?”

“Uh, yeah.” Keith was surprised he remembered. The crew was huge, and there were heaps of people way more important than Keith here. “That’s me.”

“When you said you looked after the ‘instruments and stuff,’ I was wondering what you’d think of my baby.” Shiro’s expression was fond as he patted the closed case.

Keith frowned. “Your…baby?” He hadn’t expected Shiro to be the type to be so attached to inanimate objects.

“Yeah, this one’s mine. What do you think of her?”

Keith thought about it. “Well-loved,” he decided. “Looks like you’ve had her for a while, but she’s not like…beat up or anything.”

Shiro hummed. “Yeah, I’ve had her almost…twenty years, now? Dad got her for me. My first guitar, and, well, what started all of this really.” He gestured around the stage, at the bustling crew that swarmed the stage and the space below it, with Coran’s brisk commands filling the air. “Dad was the one who paid for lessons and everything. So yeah, she’s special. Not the best, not perfect, but special.”

Keith thought of family, of trying to find home, and carrying a piece of it with you.

Not the best. Not perfect. But something special.

_I know what that’s like._

“I see,” he said, keeping his voice level. No need to break out a sob story here. “He sounds like a great guy.”

“He is,” Shiro said, and Keith tried to ignore the second little pang in his heart. The one that ached to know what it was like to have a guardian who built your dreams instead of grinding them to dust. Someone who you could say was a good person without hesitation.

Keith stood quickly. “Well, she looks like she’ll be fine for your gig tonight.”

Shiro followed suit, still smiling. Did the man ever _stop_? “Thanks, then,” he said, eyes twinkling. “I owe you one.”

Surely he was joking? Keith hadn’t done a thing. “Uh, right.” God, why was he _like_ this? He couldn’t think of the next thing to say to save his life, and Shiro was making such an effort. “Um, I should, help out with the rest of the stuff.”

“Anything I can do? There seems to be a lot,” Shiro said, glancing around the stage with a frown.

Keith blinked. “You’re not part of the crew.” Heavy lifting was for people who had nothing else important to do—who _could_ do nothing else important. Sure, Shiro’s arms looked like they’d be enormous help, but…

Shiro laughed, the sound relaxed and friendly instead of condescending. “Even more reason to help out. It’s our gig, we should really help out with the set-up.”

“Um…” Keith glanced around, for Rolo, one of the Galra guys, _anyone_. He wasn’t ever the one to be giving orders, let alone to the front man of Voltron. “I don’t know if—”

“Shiro!”

At the call, Shiro turned. “What?”

Pidge bounded over (there wasn’t really any other way to say it), tugging on Shiro’s arm. Then she seemed to notice Keith, and her grin was just as blinding as Shiro’s; was the whole band like this? “Oh, hi! I’m Pidge.”

Keith resisted the urge to—again—remind a band member of the lack of need for introductions. “Keith. Nice to meet you.”

“And you. I’m sorry, I gotta steal Shiro. Thace wants to mic you up.”

“Oh right. Guess I can’t help out after all, sorry. But we can chat another time?”

Keith nodded non-committedly, before realising that Shiro was watching him hopefully. As though he was waiting for a real answer, where Keith had expected him to just walk away after that small slice of politeness.

“Uh, sure.”

That seemed to satisfy Shiro, who smiled broadly. “Awesome. Keep up the great work, Keith.”

Again, Shiro didn’t seem satisfied until Keith acknowledged him, this time with a short nod.

“See you, Keith!” Pidge said, tugging Shiro along.

They left like that, Pidge swinging Shiro’s arm, and Shiro leaning down as she chattered. He was smiling gently, expression turning into one of surprise when Lance appeared and slung his arm around Shiro’s shoulders as well.

Keith watched them, happy, friendly, and clearly loving each other, and…

He quickly busied himself, trotting down the stairs of the stage to grab another pile of cables. He unwound them, but then he was distracted by a sudden round of laughter. He looked up, the length of cable dangling from his hands.

The band had gathered now, the other three crowding around Shiro along with some other crew members. Judging from his pout and the way he shoved at Allura, they were having fun at Shiro’s expense. But it was…familial.

They were family.

Keith recognised some of the Galra from the crew, their voices joining those of the band. They were a mix of different people, personalities, and skills, but here they were, on the adventure of their lives and surrounded by their friends to share it with.

Keith’s gaze dropped to the cable in his hands, then swung over to where Rolo was hanging out with Nyma, his best friend who also worked with Sendak. The two of them were grinning and gesturing around the stadium.

Keith crouched down next to an amp, feeling awkward. His little pocket of quiet seemed out of place now, but maybe it wouldn’t seem that way if he was working.

It wasn’t new. It wasn’t that this was any different to working in the studio—others having people around them, and Keith just…not. He _tried_ , but it was just hard. Hard when Sendak kept him working every minute, always having some small task whenever Keith even tried to talk to anyone. Probably for the best, because whenever he did try to talk, it was difficult, always being hyper-conscious of his every move and worked. The Voltron team? People like them? The exact kind of company that everyone else just gravitated towards. They spoke easily with each other, conversation flowing, laughter gentle and familiar. Their success wasn’t unsurprising—charismatic and charming, they drew in people naturally. All of them. So when Shiro told Keith that they’d talk again…

Keith shoved the cable roughly in a port.

Wasn’t going to happen.

Keith stood, and strode past the laughing group of people to get his work done.

* * *

For the most part, Shiro generally felt well-loved. He had his best friends with him, and heaps of familiar faces in the crew that he’d come to count as friends over their years of working together. This job was fast-moving and high-stress, and usually there wouldn’t be a better group of people that Shiro would rather have with him.

But sometimes—like now—he doubted their devotion.

“It’s not funny!” Shiro protested to his friends’ laughter, his voice ringing around the stadium. Thace—who dealt with all the technology—had hooked him up to a mic, which made Shiro’s voice boom throughout the stadium, loud and distorted.

“Mr Shirogane, please stay still,” Thace said, expression severe. “We need to ensure that the microphones work sufficiently.”

“Yeah, Shirogane,” Lance said with a grin. “Maybe if you’d stop talking then you’d stop with the hiccups.”

“It’s not—” He hiccupped again, and the mic that Thace was fiddling with picked the sound up, blasting it over the however many speakers there were lining the walls of the stadium, echoing loudly. And his so-called friends started cackling again.

Shiro pouted, before another muffled hiccup echoed through the stadium. “Don’t you all have better things to do?” he asked with a sigh.

“Nope,” Pidge said with a grin. “What makes you think anything would be better than this?”

“Your love and devotion to me?”

Pidge snorted. “Right. Keep dreaming, Shiro.”

Shiro huffed out a breath, which echoed across the stadium before it was cut off by another hiccup. “Are we done?” he whined, not wanting to be laughed at anymore.

“We’ll need another few moments…” Thace stood to the side, looking at some readouts on a tablet as he made vague affirming noises, presumably to whomever was hooked up to the other end of his comms.

Refusing to make anymore noise, Shiro sighed inwardly and crossed his arms. He tried not to hiccup, and succeeded in not making any noise, but his shoulders still shook from the force of it, making Allura giggle.

“Oh, Shiro, it’s not all that bad,” she said, smiling. “Remember, you’re doing this for the greater good.”

“Why can’t one of _you_ guys be the sound test guinea pig,” he grumbled, still dissatisfied.

“Isn’t it like, part of being the front man?” Hunk chimed in, grinning. “Y’know, big alpha male, leader of the pack, gotta look after the rest of the team?”

Shiro felt the tips of his ears go red. That was just _completely_ inaccurate. “I am _not_ like that!”

“It makes sense though; you _do_ talk the most,” Lance pointed out.

Pidge snorted. “Wait, Lance, you’re saying Shiro talks the most?”

“I meant during the _show_. You knew that!”

At that, Shiro had to laugh, and that was a sound he was okay with echoing around the breadth of the stadium. Then Thace nodded at Shiro, and delicately removed Shiro’s mic. “Looks like everything’s in order. You’re free to go now.”

Shiro sighed in relief, glad that the mic was gone so that it didn’t catch the hiccup which skipped out the next moment. “Thanks, Thace. You’re a gem.”

Thace dipped his head, the mic carefully resting in his large claws. “I have a much duller sheen, I would imagine. But I thank you for the sentiment.”

Lance slung an arm around Thace’s shoulders—which was quite impressive, because Shiro couldn’t manage that with Thace’s height—and sighed. “Thace, my guy, I keep telling you that my coconut oil conditioner will most definitely help with your sheen problem.”

Thace looked at Lance, expressionless as ever. “It’s not a problem. Galra hair is fine in its natural state.”

“But it could be better than fine.”

“Truth be told, we actually find the gloss quite distasteful.”

Shiro smiled to himself, watching Lance go from surprised, to slightly offended, to resigned, his arm sliding off Thace’s shoulders to hang limply by his side. “You find me distasteful?”

It was only because Shiro had been around Thace long enough now to recognise the slight twitch of his left eyebrow as the equivalent of a smile. “You’re not Galra.”

Lance shook his head in mock disappointment, but he was grinning. “You do you then, man. You keep rocking that natural look.”

Thace inclined his head. “I’m grateful for your open-mindedness, Lance.”

“And we’re grateful that you’ve got our backs,” Lance said. His grin softened into something fonder, but no less bright, as he nudged Thace.

“Couldn’t agree more,” Shiro said.

“And grateful that you let us poke fun at Shiro.”

Shiro sighed. “And I couldn’t agree less on that.”

Lance laughed. “You asked for it when you signed up to be our main man.”

“He’s got a point, Shiro,” Allura agreed, resting her elbow on his shoulder.

“Don’t you both have things to do? Hair to wash?” he asked desperately.

Lance nodded. “Yeah, gotta get on that! I’ll see you guys in a bit.” He skipped off, weaving through the crew who was milling around the place.

“We should get going, too,” Pidge said, casting a glance around the stadium. “We need to factor in freak out time.”

Shiro looked at her. “You planning on freaking out?”

Pidge shook her head. “No, but we’re all gonna do it at some point. You remember what we were like the first time we toured Earth.”

Shiro nodded. “Hunk threw up. Managed to avoid doing it on the shuttle, but it was a close thing.”

Pidge hummed, tugging at her bangs. “Yep. And you almost strangled the guy we found taking your guitar picks and selling them on eBay.”

“Hey, you were angry too!”

“Yeah, and I said we should call the police, not commit murder.”

“I wouldn’t have killed him,” Shiro grumbled. “Just hurt him a little.”

“And that’s exactly my point. You’re usually the one who wants me to let the spider outside instead of killing it. Nerves, Shiro.”

“Okay, okay, point taken.” Shiro smiled fondly, looking down at her as they walked together. “You’ve got a wise head on young shoulders.”

Pidge made a face, jamming her hands in her pockets. The band loved to laugh at her as being the youngest, though in reality she was only a few years shy of Lance. “It’s because the rest of you act like children. Someone has to take care of you.” And in her turn, Pidge loved to laugh at them for being overgrown children.

“And we couldn’t be more grateful for your care, Mum.” Shiro grinned, ruffling her hair.

Pidge glared, but the corner of her mouth was threatening to tug upwards. “Shiro.”

“You love me.”

Pidge sighed. “And I regret joining this damn band every day. Go get changed.”

“Yes, Mum.”

“And stop calling me that!”

“Yes, Mum.”

Shiro darted back inside, laughing and with the sound of Pidge’s loud protests following him.

The remaining hours wound down with his usual preparations: a quick, twenty-minute jog in the simulator in the ship’s gym, a warm shower, and then sitting down with the rest of his band for a light dinner. Then they were off to change into their outfits for the gig. Once Shiro had zipped up his black vest and helped Allura pin up her hair in a fountain of curls tumbling down from the top of her head, they all congregated in the warm-up room that had been set up in the empty space beneath the stage. Although the crowds had gathered at that point, the room was soundproof, and the inevitable noise didn’t penetrate through the walls.

Which was just as well. The chatter and rumble from a crowd of tens of thousands wouldn’t help the tension that hung thick and heavy in the room. Or maybe the quiet just made it worse, knowing that outside stood a small army of passionate, screaming fans who they could very well disappoint.

Or—and this was far more likely—nothing could stop the way that Lance was currently pacing back and forth, chewing his lip, hands shoved into his pockets as they waited. Pidge watched him from where she was lying on the floor, her hands folded over her stomach.

“Lance, you’re making my head vibrate walking around like that.”

Lance paused, glanced at Pidge, and kept pacing, now with a scowl on his face. “I can’t help it. I’m nervous.”

Pidge sighed, but Shiro could tell from the way that she was very deliberately keeping her hands still that she felt the buzzing energy too. “We’ll be fine. We’ve done this before.”

“Not like this,” Lance argued, now kicking rhythmically at the wall. “This is like, _the_ biggest show we’ve done. This is it, this is—” He groaned, dropping his head against the wall. “I don’t know how to explain it.”

“You don’t have to,” Shiro said quietly. “Lance, we know what you mean. We’re in this together.” As Lance had said, this _was_ it. All that they’d been working towards for years, everything that they’d earned bit by stubborn bit with their hard work and perseverance, all the while underscored with that constant fear of the unknown. All of that, and it came down to this: an intergalactic stage, the four of them in front of tens of thousands of their fans, under the shining lights.

This was it.

“We’ve made it this far, Lance,” Allura said, her smile fond. “There’s actually not much that can go wrong anymore. Not really.”

Lance sighed, and slid down the wall. “But I still—it’s ‘cause we’ve worked so hard that I don’t want to screw up.” He flexed his fingers a couple of times; cold, stiff fingers didn’t make for good guitar riffs. “We’re good, we’re great. I want to be able to show them that.”

“And we will,” Shiro said firmly, stepping towards him. “We are good. We are great. And we’re going to be damn well fantastic on the stage as well.”

Lance’s eyes were wide as he looked at Shiro, and he could see all the emotion swimming around in them. Or maybe it was because they’d all been together so long that Shiro _knew_ what it was; by this point, they were all pretty much one and the same. Regardless, in Lance’s face Shiro saw everything that was swirling around in a storm in his own heart: excitement, fear, hope, endless nerves. All of it came down to one thing.

Love.

For each other. For their music. For themselves.

And it was that love that Shiro let speak when he held out his hand to Lance. “We’re in this together, buddy,” he said softly. “Fly, crash, win, or burn, it’s always been the four of us. And it’ll always be the four of us.”

For a moment, Lance still looked up at him with that same, helpless fear. But then he took a deep breath, and clasped Shiro’s hand, letting Shiro pull him to his feet. He studied Shiro for a moment, before closing his eyes, his hand still firmly in Shiro’s.

“Patience yields focus, right?”

Shiro smiled. “That’s right.”

Lance let out another shuddering breath, and when he opened his eyes, he was grinning, sharp and wild. “Let’s patience the quiznak out of this thing then!”

Shiro laughed, then let out a strangled noise when Pidge barrelled into him from behind, her skinny arms wrapping around his waist. “Hell yeah!”

The three of them turned to Allura, who was leaning against the wall, arms crossed as she looked at them fondly. “Well, what are we waiting for?” She walked over to them, and gathered all three of them in her arms. Shiro found himself sandwiched in the middle, Lance and Pidge’s half-hearted protests at the treatment echoing in the small space. But then Allura shushed them, and Shiro felt rather than saw the others calm as he did, breathe as he breathed, and hear the music play in their minds before they’d even stepped on the stage.

There was a knock on the door, and it opened to reveal Thace. They probably made quite a picture, Pidge with her arms wrapped around Shiro, who was clasping Lance’s hand, and Allura enveloping them all, but Thace didn’t bat an eyelid. He was used to it. “We’re ready when you are.”

The four of them let go, smiling at each other. “Looks like you’re up, Pidge.”

Pidge grinned, before darting over to grab her drum sticks. The rest of them lifted their guitars, and Shiro smile as he grabbed his, glossy black laced with the odd highlight of turquoise and white against the glimmering surface. He brushed a hand over it, feeling the smooth texture and letting the familiarity calm him. Then he slung it over his back; he wouldn’t need his for the opening, not quite yet.

Then the four of them followed Thace out the door. As they walked down a short corridor, the noise got louder and louder, an indistinguishable mess of screams and chatter that sounded like pure energy. Then they entered the room right below the stage, the space bustling with their crew. There was a momentary pause in the crew’s movement as the band entered, acknowledgement ranging from slight awkwardness to encouraging smiles, and Shiro smiled back at those, though he didn’t stop to engage. This was Voltron’s moment, and Pidge was up first. All their energy needed to be on her.

“You ready?” he asked her quietly as Thace motioned for her to step toward the drum kit set up in the middle of the room.

Electricity and fire sparked when she looked up at him, and grinned. “Yeah. You better keep up.”

Shiro laughed. “All right you brat, off you go,” he said, nodding at the drum kit. “Go. Be great.”

Pidge rolled her eyes, twirling her drum sticks. “You know, that stops being cool after the first time you say it.” But she was grinning, and her eyes were nothing but fond. “I’ll see you guys in a bit then. Let’s rock this thing.” She sat down at the kit, and nodded to Thace.

A light on the wall turned from red to green, and Pidge slowly started ascending, the floor beneath the drum kit rising towards the stage as smoke hissed around above them. The cheering got impossibly louder, and Shiro could see Pidge grin as she brought her sticks down on her drums with a _crack_ , like a gunshot firing through the speakers.

Two. Like a whip of fire through his heart.

Three. The sound echoing the pounding of the blood in his ears.

Four.

The sizzling energy that hung for a single moment, suspended as the universe held its breath.

Then she set a pounding pace, her energy racing through the rhythm of their opening song, and the scattered applause of the rest of the band and the crew joined the deafening noise coming from the crowd. Pidge was still rising slowly on the platform, until they couldn’t see her anymore among the swirling smoke. The noise was abruptly muffled with the platform slotted into the ceiling. Or well, the floor of the stage, but it was above their heads so…it didn’t really matter either way.

The breath that Shiro released—slow, slow to still his racing heart—shuddered as it left him. He looked between the other two, guitars in hand, and grinned.

“Shiro, you’re smiling like stupid,” Lance pointed out.

“Like you said, this is it.” But it could very well have been the nerves. Shiro couldn’t really tell if he was happy or just hyped up on adrenaline, the energy running little currents of sparkling electricity up his veins. “I’m glad it’s with you guys.”

Allura’s face was a little stiff, but her smile was bright. “Well then, let’s show them what we’re made of.”

Behind them, Thace motioned them to another door, opening it to reveal a set of stairs. With a single look backwards and a wink, Lance gripped his guitar tight, and bounded up the couple of steps.

The roar this time was _deafening_ , and Shiro grinned at Allura, knowing that the volume would only increase with every band member they added. They didn’t talk again, just getting lost in the thrum of Lance’s sound as his riff kicked in, pounding through their earpieces and vibrating throughout the entire structure of the stage. One bar, two, three, four, and the cheering hadn’t stopped, the crowd getting caught up in the vibrant sound that Pidge and Lance were making together. They were similar souls—fun, loving, incredibly kind and open-hearted, and it showed in the sound that they wove, the splash of Pidge’s cymbals mixing with the way that Lance’s line skipped up and down.

Then Allura was stepping forward, and she flashed a grin at Shiro before she climbed the stairs to the sound of deafening cheering and applause, the sound rising and crashing like a tidal wave.

Then it was just Shiro.

He closed his eyes, and took a steadying breath. The familiar rhythm of Pidge and Lance beat with his heart, and the distant sounds of cheering that he could hear even past his earpiece lighted the fire and love in his soul. For his band, for his audience, and for the part of him that lived and breathed music. The familiar pounding of Allura’s guitar joined the frenzy of emotions, racing along, simultaneously frantic and effortless in how it blended so perfectly with the demanding rhythm of Pidge’s drums and the pounding sprint of Lance’s riff. Now they were just missing their voice.

With the weight of his guitar heavy on his back, Shiro opened his eyes, nodded once at Thace, and ascended the stairs.

Of the millions of races and beings that scattered the universes, there hadn’t yet been a single one discovered that was invincible. But, oh, this feeling, this heart that Shiro felt pulsing through the stadium? This had to be close to it. The thrum of the music through the stage, the bright lights searing across Shiro’s skin as he emerged from the stairs, smoke swirling around him.

The smoke obscured him from sight as he finally reached the stage. Shiro took a breath to steady himself. Then he straightened his shoulders, and lifted the corner of his mouth in a smirk.

Show time.

“We met, close to winter as the summer died.”

The tune had barely left his mouth before the screams of the crowd became absolutely piercing, and Shiro only resisted laughing because he knew from long experience that it was always his initial reaction.

He let his voice ring out again, low and tender even as the rhythm raced on. “We met, close to winter. I died by your side.” This time, the crowd joined in, and Shiro grinned even as he observed how his voice sounded, and noticed the subtle shift in volume as the rest of the band quietened just enough to accommodate him.

And when he stepped out of the smoke to the front of the stage, the lights flashed and the crowd was spread out before him, the home that the four of them had built together making him feel like he’d been reborn.

Knowing that, knowing that this heart and soul he could feel—almost tangible in the air—was his welcome home, Shiro sang.

Their first song was something the four of them had written together. In one of those odd moments where everything in the universe seemed to align, they’d cobbled _Blackout_ together in all but five minutes. They’d had their demo tape almost all put together at that point, and had just finished recording the final song they’d planned. Shiro had been checking that all their files were in order, when Lance had started strumming the bass line that was now so well known throughout the universe. The others had joined in, and Shiro had watched for a good minute or two, smiling and drinking in how much he loved them. And it was that feeling that he had poured into words, into the tune, and when they’d finished they knew they were onto something.

It was funny. When they’d written it, it’d just been the four of them in Allura’s dad’s garage, making it up and singing to whatever crappy recording equipment they’d managed to snag. Just them, in the quiet comfort of their friendship and their love.

Now, Shiro sang the same chorus for the final time tonight, with the pounding of the music in his ear and sweat beading his forehead, to a crowd of thousands of their fans. The same words that he’d drawn from his mind and his heart, watching his friends do what they loved, now spilling out into a stadium full of people who had just come to watch _them_.

“Do you know what I see, when I look at you? It’s the love that I feel, babe, I want to scream it, shout it.” And the crowd screamed that very same love right back at him, and this time Shiro couldn’t help but laugh. The lights danced overhead, lighting up the mass of movement with reds and blues and purples, streaking bright whites across the sky.

Shiro glanced to his right, grinning when he saw Allura’s gorgeous smile as her guitar line pounded on, challenging him as it raced with his voice through the final few lines. The competition only fuelled him, and he belted the words to bring the song to an end.

“Standing right there, and I know I’ll see this through. You short my system—” Shiro grinned, and pointed out to the crowd.

“—you make my heart go blackout.”

They landed on the final note together, and the lights went out.

The crowd _screamed_ , the noise rising like a wave. The lights from the glowsticks and torches and whatever hell else they had flickered like crazy, lighting them up even though the stage was dark. Shiro grinned, panting in the dark, as his heart raced with the adrenaline that was only just beginning. Lance picked his way through some random notes as the lights went up, and Shiro knew that the deep hum of the bass would jolt through the hearts of their fans, connecting them through sound and rhythm.

When the stage lit up, the applause only increased, rolling throughout the stadium. Shiro’s smile didn’t wane as he looked out at the crowd, waving. “Hello, Arus!”

More screams, and Lance strummed a rapid chord, the sound crashing through the air to mix with the screams and wild applause. Shiro moved forward to high five a screaming Arusian, grinning at Lance before he turned back to the crowd.

“You all look so beautiful tonight. Thank you so much for coming out here.” His voice echoed, thrumming deep through the stadium. The crowd quietened down to the occasional scream or yell as Shiro spoke. “We never imagined that we’d be here. We were just some kids, mucking around in Allura’s basement, when we came up with _Blackout_. That was eight years ago, and we only dreamed of being here in front of you beautiful people.” His face was reflected on screens scattered throughout the stadium and floating just above it, flashing his fond smile dozens of times to the crowd. “Thank you so much for making our dream a reality.”

The crowd cheered again, and Shiro swung his guitar off his back so that he was holding it properly. There was an odd, rough noise over the speakers, and Shiro frowned. “So, want me—”

But he only heard his voice in his ear, not blasted over the speakers. Shiro tapped the microphone dangling next to his mouth, and sure enough, it didn’t make a sound. He glanced at his band mates, pointing to his mic when they looked back at him, puzzled.

Lance was the first to get it, and he stepped forward, grinning. “Sorry, guys, looks like Shiro’s got some technical trouble. Typical.” Shiro rolled his eyes, and Lance kept talking, keeping the crowd entertained.

From the corner of his eye, Shiro saw Thace—just below the stage—gesture rapidly, and then there was a figure darting up the stairs.

Black hair gathered in a ponytail, red jacket ditched for the blacks of their crew. Keith.

Shiro grinned as Keith stepped forward. “Fancy seeing you here.”

Keith didn’t look impressed. “Yeah, it’s not like I work here or anything. Mic not working?”

“Yeah, must’ve snagged it with my strap when I moved my guitar.”

Keith frowned, and moved behind to him. He had to push himself up on his toes a little to get to the mic (kind of cute), so Shiro leaned over to help him out.

“Mm, you just knocked it out of place. Here—” Keith’s hands were cool on the back of Shiro’s neck, and he grimaced internally at what Keith must think of the fact that he was already damp with sweat. But Keith’s hands on his skin was a nice change, and he stayed still as Keith worked.

Then Keith let out a little grunt of triumph, and when he tapped the mic gently, the sounds echoed through the stadium.

Shiro smiled at Keith, and Keith returned it. A little shy, but it was there.

“You guys are sounding great,” Keith murmured. “Good luck for the rest of it…Shiro.” Shiro didn’t even have time to acknowledge the statement before Keith stepped away and darted off stage.

But something settled in him. Something that grew from Keith’s steady faith. And it was those words and Keith’s shy smile that he carried in his heart as he turned back to the crowd to introduce the next song.

“So, want me to tell you a little bit about love?

* * *

Five hours later had the four of them showered, dressed in pyjamas, and sprawled across the dining room table as they tiredly shovelled food down. They were exhausted—gigging was always exhausting, but the nerves being slightly more extreme than usual, plus this being their first show in a while, had them completely wiped out.

But there was a sense of victory, despite the fatigue. Shiro was tiredly spooning some kind of stew-soup-thing into his mouth, but he couldn’t stop smiling in between mouthfuls. Looking around, he saw that the others are the same, an air of euphoric contentedness in the air.

Allura was the one to break the silence. “That went well,” she said, smiling at her bread roll, scattering blue crumbs over the table as she tore off a chunk.

Lance hummed a snippet of the chorus from _Comfort_ , before smiling at his own bowl of stew-soup-thing. “Yeah,” he said simply. “It did.”

The door slid open with a hiss, and some of their crew walked through the kitchen, yawning as they headed for Hunk’s post-concert spread. There were murmured congratulations as they passed the band, and they carried an air of success too as they raided Hunk’s supplies. Another couple of people trickled in and out as they finished the rest of their food, but it was only when Shiro went to stick his bowl in the dishwasher that there was anyone he recognised. Three crew members entered, and Shiro smiled at the familiar face.

“Keith,” he called, keeping his voice down a little. It didn’t feel right to be shouting after such a tiring day, but he wanted to get Keith’s attention.

Keith turned, searching, before he relaxed at the sight of Shiro. He said something to his two friends, before walking over. “Hey. You guys sounded really good.”

Shiro grinned tiredly. “Thanks to you.”

Keith shook his head. “I didn’t do much. Handed Pidge some drumsticks and plugged some stuff in.”

“Nah, you mixed my fike.” Shiro blinked, before feeling his ears heat up a little. But…maybe it was the fatigue talking, but the embarrassment was almost worth it when he got to hear Keith laugh. “Fixed my mic,” he corrected, smiling wryly.

Keith was still smiling. “Go to sleep, you’re dead on your feet. You’ve got another show tomorrow night.”

Shiro stifled a yawn. “Yeah, I guess I should. I’ll see you around tomorrow then?”

Keith raised and lowered one shoulder. “Probably. I do work here.”

“I’ll see you then.”

Keith smiled, before raising his hand in a little wave. Which was again, cute. “Yeah. Night, Shiro.”

“Good night, Keith. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Shiro watched as he trotted away to catch up with his friends, hair loose around his shoulders now that he wasn’t working anymore.

With a smile in his heart, Shiro went to bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why is Keith's hair so poofy? It's where he stores all his melancholy.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: passages of dialogue in italics are Shiro speaking to his father in Japanese.

Some weeks later saw them preparing to leave the Arus system. Nothing particularly eventful had happened during their gigs, other than several marriage proposals for Allura (again, not really eventful), and someone throwing a shoe on stage when they’d been playing one of the neighbouring planets, Cykus. They’d had the better half of the day off, just running through a few extra songs for their extra destination—a cluster of Balmera colonies, even further away from Earth than Arus was—but otherwise, they’d just spend the day playing games and relaxing.

As for Shiro, well, he’d gotten to spend a little more time with Hunk, slaving away at one of the most difficult tasks he’d ever come across: cooking.

But today hadn’t been _too_ disastrous, and when Hunk grinned at Shiro’s attempt at a simple stew, he knew that his culinary hopes might be looking up.

“Hey man, you did it,” Hunk said with a laugh, clapping Shiro on the shoulder. “We’re gonna make you a chef in no time.”

Shiro raised an eyebrow, though even he couldn’t avoid smiling; he was a _little_ proud of himself, even if it had taken over two decades to get to this point. “Well, you’ve spent almost three years teaching me, so I don’t know about ‘no time.’ But we’re getting _somewhere_ , I guess. Dad’ll be happy.”

Hunk grinned, glancing back at the oven to check on several roasting chickens. “I’m sure Mr Shiro’s Dad will be glad to know his adult son can make something that doesn’t come prepared in a packet.”

Shiro made a face, setting the stew down on the counter. “I used to try! Then…life got busy.” But it was actually kind of nice. The process and the rhythm of it all was soothing, and Shiro thought that maybe it would actually be a good way to relax when he did get busy. As long as he had someone like Hunk to point out when the sugar was actually salt, and that milk wasn’t always substitutable with water.

“Hey, don’t sweat it. You’re learning now.” Hunk crouched down in front of the oven and nodded in satisfaction, opening it up. “Wanna help feed the horde?”

Shiro smiled, pressing the button to blast the loud chime sounds to announce dinner throughout the Castle. “Love to,” he said, grabbing a ladle.

Then it was a blur of bowls and faces as Shiro became an expert at ladling stew. He tried his best to remember names, and to smile as kindly as he could, though he reserved a scowl for three snickering band mates. He’d never liked the divide that would often form between an artist and their crew, and he and the others worked hard to know names and people. It wasn’t that he was uncomfortable with the fame, more that he valued the support of the team.

Plus, it was a more than little awkward when a hundred strangers knew your name but you couldn’t even recognise their faces.

Although there was one face that Shiro spotted and recognised very easily.

Keith ducked in a little late in the line, standing by himself with his bowl as he gathered utensils. By the time he arrived, half the dining hall had filled, chatter and noise well under way. Shiro watched as Keith joined the line, inspecting a cup carefully before he poured himself a glass of water and gradually shuffling forward with the queue.

Shiro had a smile ready for him as he approached—and funny, how he didn’t even need conscious thought for this smile—and Keith looked a little surprised, before he relaxed.

 

“Didn’t realise they had you doing these things,” Keith commented, handing his bowl to Shiro. His hair was tied back in a messy bun, though his bangs hung loose to frame his face. The casual look suited him, with the way his hair was almost spilling out. “They not paying you enough?”

Shiro chuckled, dipping his ladle into the pot. “I like helping out.” He served up a slightly larger portion into Keith’s bowl; he could treat a friend, and it would mean that Keith might be saved from coming back for seconds, if he wanted it. “Plus, I made it. Least I could do after making Hunk teach me.”

Keith grinned, accepting his meal. “You made it? My, um, compliments to the chef then.”

Shiro grimaced. “Please don’t, I’d hate for you to be disappointed. There’s a reason we’ve got Hunk on board.”

“Don’t think I could be disappointed, really.”

Shiro blinked at him. “Uh…” What did you say to a stranger-friend’s utter faith in your non-existent cooking abilities that he didn’t know about? What was Shiro meant to say to the way that Keith was _smiling_ , so genuinely?

It turned out he didn’t have to say anything, because Keith glanced behind him, and started moving along. “Oops, holding up the line. See you, Shiro.”

“Er, right, see you! Enjoy the meal.”

“You too.” Keith grimaced. “I mean, like, enjoy dinner. Not the serving, but, um, make sure you eat too.”

Shiro laughed, waving a hand. “It’s okay, I get the sentiment. I’ll see you around.”

Keith’s grimace disappeared and was replaced with a brief smile before he left.

Shiro watched him for a moment, Keith’s bun bobbing slightly with his step as he walked away. He was funny, in an awkward kind of way. It was refreshing.

The smile on his face no longer an effort, Shiro turned to the next person in line.

Dinner had been a success. Or well, no one had died form Shiro’s cooking, or complained too loudly (again, Voltron being the exception). Now it was time to wind down, and Shiro hummed happily as he headed back to his room. He changed into pyjamas and crawled into his bed with his tablet, tucking himself in nice and warm. He yawned, then pulled up his favourite contacts, tapping _Hiroshi Shirogane_ before burrowing deeper into his blankets. The tablet started to beep and Shiro waited, the little loading icon spinning as the call connected.

Then the blue spinning circle disappeared, and instead the screen was filled with a face instead: black hair peppered with white, kind eyes framed with wrinkles, and the happiest smile.

Shiro smiled fondly. “ _Hi, Dad_.”

“ _Takashi. How’s space?_ ”

Shiro chuckled. “ _Space is good. It’s as pretty as I remember it._ ” He smiled fondly at the screen, remembering all the travelling they’d done when he was little. “ _We should take another trip some time, the two of us. I think you’d like Arus, it’s really pretty. Quiet._ ”

“ _We haven’t had a trip in a long time. That sounds nice_.”

“ _Yeah, that’s…probably my fault. I’m sorry I’ve been so busy_.”

“ _Your work is important, Takashi. As long as you spend time with me later, I’m a happy man._ ”

“ _Spending time with you makes me a happy kid_.”

His dad laughed, sitting up slightly in his seat. “ _And how are the rest of your friends?_ ”

Shiro chewed his lip. “ _They’re doing well. We were really nervous for our first show, I think, but it turned out okay. We know each other well enough._ ”

“ _I’m guessing Lance was the nervous one?_ ”

“ _Yeah he was the obvious one, but I think everyone_ _was. He did extremely well—everyone did, of course—but it took him a little bit longer than usual to get settled. It was a big show_.”

“ _And a successful one, from what I saw_.”

Shiro blinked, then grinned. “ _You watched?_ ”

His dad just laughed. “ _Of course of I did. Did you think I was going to miss out?_ ”

“ _I just wasn’t sure you would’ve had time, that’s all_.”

“ _I didn’t see all of it, but I saw enough. And I saw the headlines in the entertainment section the next day._ ” His dad smiled, lacing his fingers together and resting them on the desk in front of him. “ _You’ve done very well, Takashi. I’m proud of you_.”

Shiro’s smile faded a little. “ _I couldn’t have done it without you_.”

But his dad was shaking his head. “ _It was you, Takashi. You and your friends, you all have such incredible heart. Of course the world was going to fall in love with you._ ”

Hearing that…ached. Not in any way that was sad or hurtful, but just in how much it struck at his heart to hear the words. How much it meant to him that his father’s belief in him had paid off, and that he hadn’t been a disappointment. “ _I’m glad you think so._ ”

“ _I’d recognise it anywhere. It’s what made me fall in love with your mother, after all_.” Years ago, the tilt of Hiroshi’s smile might have been sad, the edges still stained with grief. But now, there was a hint of melancholy, but otherwise it was just pure affection and love. “ _She would have been just as proud as I am_.”

“ _Dad..._ ” Shiro shoved his face into the pillow. “ _I—thank you_.” Those two words didn’t cover it, not nearly enough, but what else was there to say? Shiro could honestly feel himself tearing up at the thought of all the recordings and books and lessons that his dad had invested in, not to mention all the time he spent going to Shiro’s concerts and driving him around when he’d been younger. One of Shiro’s best memories was of their first concert, Lance to his left, Allura to his right, Pidge behind him, and his dad in the front row.

“ _You’re welcome. Perhaps I should take a commission,_ ” his dad mused, and Shiro laughed.

“ _I’ll talk it over with the rest of the band, but I’m not sure how well Coran would take to it_.”

“ _Coran is a good man_. _He’ll understand_.”

Shiro hummed, then smiled. “ _Wait, I gotta show you something_.” He got to his feet, and was about to head out the door, before he realised he was in his warmest blue pyjamas with a little akita head poking out of the breast pocket. Then he also realised that he didn’t care; if this was the wildest thing he did as a superstar, then sue him. Shrugging a hoodie on hastily, he stepped outside, the door hissing shut behind him. “ _I wanted to send you photos earlier, but I figured that it’d be more impressive this way_.”

“ _What are you up to, Takashi?_ ”

“ _The ship has a huge observation deck. The walls are crystal clear. I think that also has something to do with Coran cleaning them a lot, but it’s beautiful_.” He trotted down the hallway, pointing out the occasional item of interest.

“ _There’s the dining hall_.” He made the turn at the very end of the hallway, headed a little further out towards the edge of the ship. Just past where they had had dinner was a lounge, filled with soft couches and beanbags. “ _I made dinner tonight, Dad!_ ”

“ _I’m impressed by Hunk, if he managed to teach you_.”

“ _Hunk is nice about my cooking, unlike you when_ —” Shiro pressed the button to open the door, and was surprised to find that when it slid open, the room was already lit. And there was someone sitting on one of the beanbags.

Or well, snuggled up was probably closer to it. They had their legs tucked up under them, lying on the side and facing away from Shiro, their hands fiddling with what looked like a tablet. When they turned around, Shiro grinned.

“Hey, Keith.”

Shiro _almost_ regretted running into him with how comfortable Keith looked. His hair looked a bit wet—likely from a shower—and he too had switched into more comfortable clothing, although his sweat pants and loose grey tee were a little more dignified than Shiro’s outfit. His hair was still tied back, but now he had a clip to hold his bangs back on one side—maybe for reading?

Point was, Keith looked comfortable enough that Shiro felt bad disturbing him, even if Shiro did like talking to him.

But when Keith caught sight of him, his expression turned from surprise to relaxed. “Hey. What’re you doing up and about still? Thought you’d be pretty tired.”

“Uh, I’m talking to my dad.” Shiro held up his tablet, where his dad was watching curiously. “Wanted to show him the observation deck.”

It was only after he lifted the tablet that Shiro thought that maybe springing your parent on someone you barely knew might be a little alarming, and Keith looked startled for a brief moment. But then he smiled, and Shiro relaxed.

“Hi, Mr Shirogane. It’s nice to meet you.” Keith gave an awkward little wave.

Shiro’s dad returned the wave. “And nice to meet you too.”

“Dad, this is Keith,” Shiro said belatedly.

“Nice to meet you, Keith.” His dad smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling.

“I was—should get to the observation deck.” Shiro smiled apologetically, but Keith just nodded.

“Yeah, sure. I’ve heard it’s really pretty.” Keith tilted his head up a little so he could see Shiro’s tablet better. “I think you’ll enjoy it,” he directed at Shiro’s dad.

“Ah, thank you. You enjoy your evening.”

“Thanks.”

“I’ll see you in a bit, Keith,” Shiro said, twiddling his fingers in a wave before walking away.

“ _Sorry, I didn’t expect anyone to be here_ ,” Shiro said, opening the door to the deck.

“ _Don’t you have a very big crew?_ ”

“ _…I was_ hoping _there wasn’t anyone. I’m walking about in my pyjamas_.”

His dad laughed, delighted. “ _Serves you right_.”

“ _Hey, I’m famous. I’m allowed to wear pyjamas around the ship_.”

“ _You’re the only one who minds, son_. _Do you know him well, or will your embarrassment be forgotten?_ ”

Shiro made a face. “ _One of the guys I work with, but he’s new. He does odds and ends, sound, carrying things, those kinds of things_. _But I do like him, so…_ ”

“ _Ah, no escape for you then_.”

Shiro shrugged. On reflection, there were worse people than Keith to have seen him walking around in sky blue cloth and his fluffiest socks.

“ _Enough about my pyjamas, turn your hologram on_.”

With another laugh, his dad disappeared off screen for a moment, and there were some shuffling sounds. Then he reappeared, groaning dramatically as he settled back down into his chair.

“ _Done. Are you going to show me what’s so interesting now?_ ”

“ _Just give me a minute_ ,” Shiro muttered, fiddling with his own tablet. He tapped it a few times, and knew he’d been successful when his screen went darker. He could still see the faint outline of his dad, but the lights in his house back on Earth had turned off, and Shiro knew that the walls would be lit up instead with what surrounded Shiro right now: the brilliant creamy yellows and pale blues of space around him, shining clearly through the glass of the observatory.

“ _Well, it really is quite beautiful_ ,” his dad murmured, and Shiro could see him glancing around him, his face only lit up by the glow of the hologram.

“ _Yeah. We should come out here together. It’s very pretty._ ”

His dad nodded, and Shiro sat on the row of couches in the centre of the room, staring out at the dark. The castle’s windows were clear, given an uninterrupted view of the dark expanse of space stretching out before them.

“ _We used to ride out to watch the stars, your ma and I_.”

Shiro glanced at the tablet, but he couldn’t see much of his dad in the darkness. “ _Yeah?_ ” He was fairly certain he’d heard this one before, but it was always nice to talk about his mum without it being sad. It’d been years since her death, but sometimes it was still a bit too much.

His dad made a little noise of affirmation. “ _She’d take me out on her motorcycle, and I thought she was so cool. We’d leave the buildings and houses behind and climb up these mountains close by. It was the best in the winter_.”

Shiro made a face, shuddering. “ _Gross. Cold_.”

His dad’s laugh made him think of home, of hot soup on the stove and the sound of gentle wind chimes from their garden. “ _We loved it. Had to be careful of course, but the snow and the bite in the air was...beautiful. And we loved watching the stars. Neither of us had any idea of what any of them were, not like you. But we had fun_.”

His dad trailed off, and the two of them let the silence drift. Shiro didn’t remember much of his mum, not personally. They had pictures and videos to fill in the blanks, but he didn’t have that much himself. Just snippets of odd, out of context memories, like skinning his knee falling off a swing and a pair of strong hands helping him up. Eating ice-cream, both of them sticky and messy, a bright blue stain on a pink shirt. Little things like that.

His dad, though, had lost so much more.

“ _Are you okay, Dad?_ ”

“ _Of course, of course_ ,” was the hasty reply. “ _I’m a very lucky man. Don’t worry about me, silly boy_.”

“ _You’ve worried about me for twenty-something years now_.” Shiro flexed his right hand, watching the starlight reflect dully off his fingertips. “ _I’m allowed to be a good son and look after you, right?_ ”

“ _You are a good son, Takashi. Always have been_.” His dad sighed. “ _It’s just quiet whenever you’re gone. And it’s not that I see you all that often when you’re home but...I can feel the distance. You understand_.”

“ _I do_.” They’d only ever had each other, after all. Of course he understood.

“ _So it’ll be nice_ ,” his dad continued. “ _Travelling together. After you’re done with work_.”

Shiro looked out at the expanse of the stars and settled back as he watched some planet’s satellite float by. “ _It’ll be nice_ ,” he agreed quietly, pretending that he could perhaps see Earth, and feel a little more home.

* * *

 Keith shifted in the beanbag, brushed his bangs away from his face again, and read the first page of the appendix of his novel.

 

_I’ve included a glossary so that readers might better understand the words that are used in the book. Happy reading, and I’ll see you on the next adventure._

_Atterten – a small creature, somewhat of a cross between a mouse and a snake._

_Carch – a travel pillow, compact and easy to carry around._

_Dartnug – the informal term for—_

Keith looked up again with another sigh, glancing wistfully at the door to the observation deck. He had _wanted_ to go out onto the deck after finishing his story, but he didn’t know if Shiro was still having time alone with his dad. But the voices seemed to have died down, so maybe Shiro was just having alone time with himself? But Keith didn’t want to disturb _that_ either.

But this would be the only chance he ever got of seeing this part of the universe, and he wanted to drink everything in…

Keith shifted around on his beanbag for another couple of minutes, but when Shiro still didn’t emerge, he huffed out a breath. Shiro was just a…person. Just a normal human being (who happened to have more money that Keith could even comprehend) with normal human feelings (and Keith hoped that didn’t include an entitlement to being a dick just because he was famous). It would be no problem. All Keith had to do was knock quietly on the door and walk inside; he didn’t even have to talk to Shiro or disturb him, if they just kept to separate parts of the room.

For some reason, his heart just kept on sinking even though he tried his best to talk himself out of his nerves.

But he _really_ wanted to see the stars.

Sighing, Keith set aside his tablet and walked over to the door. He leaned up against it as close as he dared, trying to hear any noises coming from inside. When he heard nothing, he braced himself, lifted a hand, and knocked.

Why did it sound so _loud_?

Keith was still cringing when Shiro’s voice sounded, muffled through the door. “It’s open; you can come in.”

Breathing a sigh of relief, Keith pushed open the door.

Shiro had turned off the lights at some stage, and it made it a little difficult to see where exactly Shiro was, or what he was doing. Keith couldn’t see the light of his tablet anymore, and Shiro wasn’t talking to anyone, so Keith assumed that he must have finished his call with his dad. “Sorry to bother, I just wanted to check it out,” he said, keeping his voice quiet. There was a stillness in the air that Keith didn’t want to ruin, and he kept his footsteps light as he entered the room.

“No problem; the space is for everyone.”                           

But Keith was already approaching the clear glass, and he didn’t pay another thought to who may or may not be there, famous or not.

The skies looked _beautiful_.

They’d seen the stars flying out, and Keith had glanced out a window here or there to see the planets and meteors and the occasional other ship float by, but this? This was something else. The skies were spread out under his _feet_ , the floor simply dropping away where it met the glass wall, and Keith felt like he was walking on the fabric of the universe, dancing in space. Comets whizzed by, and the deep blues and purples were just so utterly gorgeous, all lit up by tiny white dots or planets painting their colours onto the dark.

 

“It’s so pretty,” Keith said breathlessly, pressing his hands up against the glass carefully. His breath fogged it up for a moment, and he drew back quickly, not wanting to obscure a single inch of the panorama. “You can see so much.”

It was really something else, wasn’t it? All at once to feel so small, so insignificant against the vast expanse of the world, but also whole in a way that couldn’t really be explained other than a sense of _belonging_ to such a huge creation.

“You want to sit?” Shiro offered, startling Keith out of his quiet observation. “It’s comfortable, and it’s got a nice view back here.”

Keith glanced behind him, a little uncertain, but Shiro was nodding at the spot next to him. He looked relaxed. Open. Friendly. And if Keith was going to hang around on the ship for a few months, maybe friendship was a good thing.

“Sure,” he said, and he hoped his voice didn’t sound too weird. He went over to where Shiro was sitting, smiling hesitantly as he sat down and stumbling when he sank into the couch faster than he expected to. “Oh, that’s softer than I thought it’d be.”

Shiro laughed. “Right? Told you it’s comfortable.” With a sigh, Shiro relaxed into the couch. He seemed content to just observe the sky go by, so Keith tore his eyes from Shiro—it was weird seeing a superstar in pyjamas—and did the same, gazing out into the night sky.

“Your dad doing okay?” he asked eventually.

Shiro nodded. “Yeah, he’s good. Just doing his usual thing, going to work, all of that.”

“What does he do?”

“Engineer. Works for a construction company, does complicated things that I don’t get.” Shiro grinned. “He tried to get me into it, but him suggesting engineering turned into me wanting to go to flight school. Then somehow…” He gestured around him. “Intergalactic musicians.”

“Did he see that one coming?”

“Not really. I, er, had different plans. Like I said, flight school. But then this happened.” He raised and lowered his right arm, and he must’ve done something to make it glow blue for a moment before it went dark again. “Set me back a bit. I was always into music, but I deliberately picked up guitar again ‘cause I wanted to try get some fine motor control back and then, well…” He shrugged. “It just kinda stuck.”

Keith smiled. There was pride in the way Shiro talked, much as he seemed to be downplaying it. “Looks like it worked out.”

“It did.”

“You call back home often?”

“Mm, we keep in touch as much as we can. We’re both busy, but it’s just me and him since my mum died, so we’re pretty close.”

At the words, Keith’s heart hurt a little bit. “Oh. Right. That’s…nice.”

Shiro nodded, still looking out at the stars. “Yeah. I’m lucky, not everyone has that.”

No, not everyone did. Keith hardly remembered a time where he hadn’t been working for Sendak, or a time before living with him before he’d been told to move out promptly as soon as he was eighteen. What he did have were vague memories, but he had a few old photos too, so who knew how much of his “memories” were actually _built_ from memory?

And he had the stars. A memory of a quiet voice, with no face to go with it, pointing out the constellations, a large hand tracing the shapes in the sky. He remembered nothing else but the feeling of happiness and contentment.

“I’m glad you guys close,” Keith said, not looking at Shiro. “You _are_ lucky to have that.”

From the corner of his eye, Keith caught Shiro nodding. “Yeah. He’s a nice guy. What about you? You miss your family when you’re out here?”

Something dropped, stone cold and heavy, in Keith’s heart. “No, not really.” Not entirely a lie, but Keith didn’t have the energy to go into a longer story here. Not with Takashi Shirogane, the universe’s resident heartthrob. “First time out here, so no time to miss them, really. Haven’t had the chance.”

Shiro laughed. “Wow, I can’t imagine that. Not that there’s anything wrong with it,” he added quickly, and Keith had to smile at how eager he was not to offend. “Like, you’re fine. More than fine. But I just remember how the first time when I had to tour—in another _country_ , not even another planet—I thought I was fine for a day. Thought the same thing as what you just said. So excited that I thought I wouldn’t miss my dad.”

When Shiro’s tone turned a little wry, and something sheepish, Keith glanced over. “Didn’t last two days. I called him the second night. We were meant to be out celebrating with the headlining band, but I had to run back to the hotel room after an hour at the party and call him, just to hear his voice.”

Keith smiled, but his heart twisted a little. “That’s sweet. He sounds really nice.”

Shiro nodded, then looked at Keith, tilting his head. “You know you can use any of the Castle’s comms if you want to talk to your family any time?” Keith’s heart clenched, even more so when Shiro smiled so openly. “You don’t have to ask.”

Keith didn’t know what to say. _I don’t have anyone_. One option, but he never liked saying that, never liked the awkward silence that came afterwards as the other person tried to figure out exactly what they were meant to say to that. And he’d already implied that he did have someone waiting for him, so…

“It’s fine,” Keith said, looking away. Shiro’s smile was just a little too blinding, a little too honest. “But thanks for the offer.”

Shiro was silent for a moment, and Keith resisted the urge to pick at the couch that they were sitting on. It was a weird response. Keith knew that, and now he looked like an ass for brushing Shiro off. “I do appreciate it,” Keith said quickly. “Just…don’t really need it. It’ll be fine.”

“Okay,” Shiro said eventually. “But if there is anything you need on board—and not just comms—let me know, all right?”

“I don’t know, I’m already pretty satisfied with the observation deck,” Keith said, trying to steer the conversation away from the weird tautness in the air. He glanced over at Shiro, putting on a smile. And when he saw that Shiro was smiling back at him, looking relaxed and happy, he felt the tension leave a little. “Can’t really ask for much more.”

“No,” Shiro agreed, and he leaned back, turning to look out at the stars again. “You really can’t.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IS COOKING BOY SHIRO NOT THE CUTEST THING EVER??? LAW IS A GIFT.


	5. Chapter 5

It took them a little bit of time to settle into their routine, like it always did at the start of a tour. They tried to keep to a twenty-four hour schedule as much as possible, but with so many different beings on board and the constant flying around, it didn’t always work out. It had been a while since any of them had travelled beyond Earth, and Shiro had forgotten how tiring it was to have to constantly adjust your daily clock, even if only by a few hours here and there.

But with the travel and the concerts and everything in between (Pidge bullying Lance, Hunk’s amazing cooking, Pidge bullying Shiro, a quick stop off to buy Altean souvenirs, Pidge bullying—) time went remarkably quickly. And it was several weeks into their trip that Shiro finally felt like a human being when he arrived at dinner before their show one night, instead of some weird zombie puppet.

Pidge, Lance, and Hunk had managed to snag some seats towards the back of the dining hall, and Allura arrived just as Shiro did, sliding into the seat next to him. Her own tray of dinner looked almost identical to Shiro’s, with the exception of the mountain of chilli flakes sitting on top of her pasta.

“This looks wonderful, Hunk,” she said, smiling as she cranked pepper on top of both the reddened pasta and her steaming bowl of soup. “Thank you so much for doing this every day.”

“Hey, don’t sweat it.” Hunk grinned, digging into his own food. “You know I love making you guys food. Makes me all happy, you know? You guys are happy, so I’m happy.”

“We still appreciate it,” Shiro said, smiling as he buttered some bread. He dunked it in the soup, sighing happily as it hit his tongue, soft, piping hot, and perfect. Savouring the texture as he chewed, Shiro looked up…and saw Keith looking over at him, holding his tray carefully as he picked his way between the tables.

Shiro grinned, and waved him over.

Keith hesitated. He waved back, smiling tentatively as he balanced the tray carefully on one hand, and taking a step towards Shiro’s table. But then he stopped and seemed to think for a moment, glancing around the rest of Shiro’s table before looking away, probably for someone else. With an apologetic shrug and another little wave, Keith shuffled back and headed towards a corner table instead, putting his tray next to an alien—Nyla?—and pulling out a chair.

Shiro deflated like a balloon.

“Who’s that?” Allura asked, glancing over just as Shiro watched the flash of red disappear to the crowd when Keith sat down.

“Ah, one of the crew.”

Allura rolled her eyes, brushing her hair over her shoulder so it didn’t fall into her soup. “I figured that much, Takashi. I meant how do you know him?”

Shiro shrugged, turning to his own soup. “Seen him around. Talked to him a few times.”

He almost fell face-first into his bowl when Pidge clapped him on the back. “Flirted a bit. Tried to charm him with his superstar ways.”

Shiro sat up straight, brushing his bangs back. “I’m not trying to _charm_ him. I’m trying to make friends. We’re spending almost a year together on this ship. We should at least make an effort to get to know each other.”

“Mmm.” Pidge sounded very unconvinced. “And how many other friends have you made, Shirogane?”

Shiro focussed on scooping up some soup, blowing on it to cool it down before he sipped it. “I’m not keeping track.”

“You’re not, but can you name me any other people that you’ve been ‘getting to know?’”

Shiro wasn’t looking at her, but he knew that she was grinning and quite possibly waggling her eyebrows. “Yes.” He knew he sounded defensive, but he couldn’t help it. They were making a big deal out of nothing. A friendship. Possibly not even a friendship at this point. Shiro wasn’t sure; were they colleagues? Did he just _work_ with Keith? Was Keith nervous around him because he was kind of technically his boss?

Shiro had never thought about it that way. They’d worked with the Blade of Marmora—Thace’s company and crew—for so long that all the money and arrangements just kind of fell to the side, but all the new hires probably didn’t think that way. Especially of a band that had had as much success as they had; Keith wouldn’t be the first to expect Shiro to be an arrogant dick, if he did think that.

“You think I scare him?” Shiro asked, the thought suddenly hitting him. He couldn’t remember what Pidge had asked him, but it didn’t matter, because he’d finally (maybe) figured out why Keith didn’t seem to like seeking him out deliberately.

“You still haven’t told me who ‘he’ _is_ ,” Allura said, all exasperated amusement.

“Shiro’s boyf—”

“Keith,” Shiro said quickly. “His name is Keith.”

“Shiro, you’re a big fluffy teddy bear,” Allura said, sounding amused. “And you believe he’s _afraid_ of you?”

“Not of _me_ , exactly. Just the whole…being famous…thing, I guess,” he said, sighing. He never liked putting that label on himself—he didn’t _feel_ like he should be famous, he was just some guy with a guitar and a voice—but it was probably true.

“I think he is a bit more relaxed with me,” Hunk said, musing. “Or well, I don’t know. We’ve hung out like…once? Twice? I actually don’t know…do you count serving dinner as hanging out?”

“Yeah, buddy, it’s hanging out,” Lance said, picking up one of his fries delicately. “Now, what was the point?”

“Ah, well, then we’ve hung out a fair bit then. And he’s pretty normal with me. Apart from the growly thing he did when were packing the dishwasher last week…” Hunk frowned. “You sure you’re not just reading too much into it, Shiro?”

Shiro sighed. “Maybe.”

“What makes you think he doesn’t like you?”

Shiro stared at the final remnants of his soup for a moment, as though he could find the answers in the bottom of his bowl. “Nothing, really,” he said eventually. “Just seems like sometimes he wants to talk but then decides not to.” Like just then, how he’d hesitated and then backed away. Or the other night when he told Shiro he didn’t need to call home.

It had felt…off. Shiro couldn’t really place why and he hadn’t pressed, but he couldn’t really think of any reason why Keith had been so adamant about not calling his family. Maybe Shiro had chattered on about his family for too long? Had he annoyed Keith somehow?

“So nothing makes you think he hates you, huh?” Hunk continued.

“I mean, he sassed me about the lip balm,” Shiro said, smiling fondly. “You probably don’t sass people you’re scared of.”

Pidge snickered. “You keep mooning over him. Just your type; sounds like a little spitfire.”

“That’s not my type.”

“Totally is,” Lance said. “Remember that keyboard guy we hired for that one record like, two years ago? He got _super_ mad when you didn’t wanna kiss him back, Shiro.”

“Yeah, that’s not my type! I _didn’t_ kiss him, that was the whole point!”

“You also had a crush on our accounting teacher in high school,” Allura mused. “And she was ruthless.”

“No, I was the one with the crush, Lura,” Lance said. “She kept telling me off for not doing my homework, but she had this _adorable_ little crease between her eyebrows when she did it—”

“Yes, but Shiro was also in love with her,” Allura said. “He was just far less obvious and didn’t write it into his poetry assignment.”

“Wait, Shiro, we were love rivals?” Lance gaped. “And you didn’t tell me?”

Shiro hurriedly started digging into his pasta. “It wasn’t exactly something I advertised,” he mumbled around his food. “And come on Allura, I was a teenager. Don’t talk like you pine over that singing teacher we had.”

“But I’m not the one that we’re laughing at,” she said, eyes twinkling.

Hunk cleared his throat. “I don’t think Keith hates you, Shiro,” he said. “He, er, doesn’t talk like it.”

Shiro whirled to face him, food forgotten. “He talks about me?”

“Calm down, big shot, you’ll give yourself whiplash,” Pidge said with a smirk.

Hunk laughed. “Well, kinda everyone talks about you guys. But yeah, you’ve come up a few times. He thinks you’re nice.” Hunk waggled his eyebrows, smirking.

Shiro ducked his head again. “Not you too, Hunk.”

“I’m surprised Hunk wasn’t the one to start it,” Pidge murmured.

But Shiro didn’t really hear her, because Hunk’s comment was echoing in his mind. _He thinks you’re nice_. It was silly. Such a simple, tiny word, and Shiro felt something warm in his chest because Keith thought that of him. It was always a good feeling to find his efforts to be friendly were well-received, and he couldn’t help but smile into his pasta as he continued eating.

Hunk’s smirk turned to a grin. “Man, you’re gone for him, aren’t you?”

“I—I’m not _gone_.” Shiro sat up straight, hoping that it gave him a bit more dignity. It probably didn’t, seeing as he was still shorter than Hunk, who was grinning like he had been that time Lance had gotten his foot stuck in the trash chute. “I just like him.”

“Oh, so now you _like_ him?” Lance placed his chin on his hands, batting his eyes. “Tell us more about how you _like_ him, fearless leader.”

“Lance, I didn’t say—” Shiro glanced away so that he didn’t have to see the knowing looks of all his friends, looking up—

To see Keith looking over his shoulder at Shiro’s table. Shiro grinned when they made eye contact, raising his hand in a little wave. Keith’s expression was surprised, then it softened into a smile as well, and he waved back before turning back to his friends, smile still on his face.

Next to Shiro, Lance chuckled.

“This is gonna be fun to watch.”

* * *

The next day, Shiro woke early.

It was slow, the gradual coming to consciousness. He blinked at his ceiling for a moment, the gentle blue light of the wall panels casting a glow over his bed. It took a minute for him to realise why he hadn’t woken to Coran’s usual alarm, before remembering that it was a rare day off.

With a groan, he mashed his face into the pillow. A day off meant that he had to haul himself out of bed and drag himself to the gym. Two nights ago, feeling the restlessness of being cooped up inside the Castle all the time and the non-stop grind of concerts, he’d been looking forward to it. Now, warm and comfortable in bed, it was the last thing he wanted to do. Granted, anything other than lying in bed was the last thing he wanted to do.

Shiro sighed. _Five more minutes_ , he told himself. He didn’t know if it was actually five minutes, but Shiro allowed himself a little more time to just lie face-down on his bed before he sat up with a sigh. He would feel better after he went, he knew. But actually getting there was a chore.

Still, he dragged himself to his feet, and reluctantly pulled on his workout clothes. He wouldn’t get time for another long while, so he had to make the most of it. And it meant he could eat a bit more today, and the thought of pancakes with whipped cream—which Hunk had promised the other day—was enough encouragement to have him heading out the door and down the hallway.

It was too early for even Hunk to be up and preparing breakfast, and the kitchen was quiet when Shiro walked past, except for the hum of machinery. He quickly toasted a piece of bread so he wouldn’t be working out on an empty stomach, munching on it as he walked down the hall, enjoying the peace. It was likely too early for him to have any company in the training area, and he looked forward to a decent session before the rest of the Castle woke up.

A voice caught his attention as he was walking, and he frowned. Was someone up and about already? Not only that, but up and singing. He couldn’t really hear the words, but snippets of it sounded like _Blackout_ , and Shiro smiled, looking for the source. It was coming from one of the equipment rooms, and Shiro approached, curious.

The voice…was familiar. Someone he knew, then.

Frowning, he poked his head inside the room, fully intending to tell whoever it was that they didn’t need to be working so early. It was barely eight hours since they’d finished up, and it had been the last gig of this particular leg. Everyone on board deserved a sleep in at least for today, until they had to move again. So why—

Shiro spotted long, black hair, a dark t-shirt, and—

Keith.

Keith seated, cross-legged, next to a pile of cables, methodically picking them out of the pile to coil them tight and place them neatly to the side. Keith’s voice was floating smoothly over the words of _Blackout_ , sounding oddly empty in the quiet of the early hour, but it was a _gentle_ intrusion. Like a peep of slightly overbright daylight on the horizon in the early morning, or a sudden rush of wind in a calm forest.

Shiro watched, soft smile on his face. Keith’s voice was pretty. A little husky, like the way he talked, but not in a way that was grating; rather, it added a little colour to the tone, a little spark of something interesting. It was deeper than Shiro had expected, but Shiro should’ve known by now that Keith—more than anyone else—couldn’t be boxed into what was expected.

Keith wove his way gently through the second verse, winding up another cable and setting it off to the side, working with a certain rhythm to his actions. Shiro went unnoticed throughout all of it, singing along in his head, until Keith arrived at the bridge. Then Shiro laughed quietly when Keith started singing Allura’s frantic guitar solo; it was something that Shiro and his own friends would do, and it never failed to make him smile when anyone tried to sing their way through the complicated passage.

But he regretted it immediately when Keith looked up, startled, and stopped singing abruptly.

“Shiro?”

Well, not much he could do now he’d been found out. “Morning.” Shiro smiled easily. Moving away from his perch in the doorway, Shiro walked over and eased himself down so he was sitting next to Keith, who shuffled over to give Shiro some space.

“Ah, I didn’t expect anyone to be up this early.” Keith cleared his throat, and Shiro pretended not to notice that his ears were tinged red.

“Neither. Especially not someone working.” Shiro frowned a little. “You must’ve barely had any sleep last night, being up this early after a show.”

Keith shrugged. “Woke up, couldn’t sleep again. Thought I’d might as well be useful.”

“Well, thanks for you work.” Shiro smiled gently. “You really don’t have to, though. We didn’t hire you to work all the time. You could’ve just taken the time for yourself.”

“Not a huge deal.”

“You should take some time to relax, if you can. There’s enough work when you’re working.” But seeing that Keith was still frowning, seeming to doubt Shiro’s words, Shiro let it go. He cleared his throat, his heart rate unexpectedly—and inexplicably—rising. “You’ve got a nice voice.”

Keith’s eyes narrowed a little. “You laughed…”

Oh no. “Not at you!” Shiro said hurriedly, shaking his head. “I didn’t—that’s not how I meant it, I wasn’t laughing at you.”

Shiro’s heart squeezed for another moment as Keith observed him…before Keith relaxed, a slight smile lifting the corner of his mouth. “I believe you. Sorry, I just thought—sorry.”

“No, no, it’s fine. I’m sorry for startling you. It’s just that me and my friends do that. Allura’s guitar solo, I mean. Or well, solos in general.” He grinned. “It’s always a huge mess. It’s fun.”

Keith nodded, grabbing another cable. “It is. It’s an incredible part.”

“Yeah, she’s good like that. Some of the lines we write together, but that was all her. We had the lyrics and the rest of it, and decided we didn’t need words for the bridge, so we just let her go for it. And she did.”

“It shows off a lot of her strengths,” Keith said, smiling as he wound the cable around itself. “Like, the way she gets those high notes, and how quick she does it? And you guys go even _faster_ live, and she still manages to pull it off and make it sound great, and it looks so _effortless_. It’s so cool.”

Shiro smiled at Keith’s enthusiasm. “It is. I love watching her. Even before I got the arm, I could never match her for speed.”

Keith looked him, confused. “What’s wrong with your arm?” Then he seemed to catch what he was saying, and he waved a hand, flustered. “Ah, I mean—not what’s _wrong_ with it, just—I’m sorry.” He winced, and Shiro felt a little bad for him. “I didn’t mean—”

“It’s okay, Keith,” Shiro interrupted, before Keith could work himself deeper into more embarrassment. He smiled in what he hoped was a relaxing—and not judgmental—way, and it probably worked, seeing as some tension did seem to leave Keith, even if he still looked like he’d just seen someone stub their toe. “It’s fine,” Shiro stressed. “I’m not bothered by it, it was a perfectly normal question.”

“I just didn’t mean that there’s anything, like, _wrong_ with your arm. I’m sorry.”

“It was a perfectly normal question,” Shiro repeated. He smiled, leaning back to prop himself up on his elbows, hoping that him physically relaxing would make Keith feel a little more at ease. “And, well, I don’t have the same dexterity that I used to. The pressure sensors aren’t quite as sensitive as real nerves, so it’s a little tricky to do anything really intricate. But, like I said, Allura’s always been better than me at stuff like that.”

“Ah, right.” Keith shifted, quickly grabbing another cable and apparently concentrating very hard on coiling it, no longer glancing over at Shiro like he had been.

There was a twinge of uncomfortable disappointment around Shiro’s heart. It wasn’t like they hadn’t hung out before, or that Keith hadn’t laughed around him and talked quite openly previously. But, just like back on the observation deck, discomfort seemed to hit Keith very suddenly, and then he’d withdraw. Shiro wondered if this was just something that happened around _him_ ; after all, Hunk said Keith was fine.

Either way, he was determined to be Keith’s friend. Keith seemed to like the company (or so most of the signs appeared to indicate), and Shiro was never one to back down from making a friend.

Shiro cleared his throat, sitting back up and grabbing a cable from the tangled pile. “You seem pretty interested in music. Do you play at all?”

Keith looked up at him before he turned his attention back to his work. “No, I never did. I, er, never got the chance to.”

Shiro sat up a bit straighter. This…

This felt like an opportunity.

“Never got the chance to?”

“Um, I…couldn’t really afford it when I was younger. And then once I hit my teens I was working a lot, so didn’t really have time.” Some of the tension was leaving Keith’s shoulders, and he put his cable aside but didn’t pick up a new one, staring instead at a rack of guitars to the side of the room.

“But it doesn’t sound like you don’t _want_ to, right?” Shiro said hopefully.

Keith looked away from the guitars, back at Shiro. “I mean, yeah, it’d be cool. I’ve been doing this for a while so I’ve been surrounded by music since…forever. And, um, my…mum used to sing to me.” Keith frowned, his eyes sliding away from Shiro’s for a brief moment. “She had a pretty voice. There was a keyboard around the house when I was little, but yeah, no one ever really taught me.”

“You still want to learn? Guitar or keyboard?”

Keith frowned. “Either would be cool, but like I said, don’t really have much time while I’m working.”

Shiro grinned, excitement bubbling in his heart. “How about I teach you?”

Well, that was one way to make Keith stop avoiding eye contact. Now he was staring, wide-eyed, the tiniest frown creasing his brow.

“…You?” he said eventually, and Shiro kept his smile firmly in place, as though that would somehow hold up his heart as well.

“Yeah, I mean, I’m not the greatest.” He shrugged. “We won’t have time between now and the end of the tour to do huge concertos or anything,” he said, smiling. “But I can teach you the basics? How to read music, some of the simpler chords, just to get you started and then at least you can figure some things out from that point.”

When Keith didn’t say anything further, Shiro’s heart fell a little. He opened his mouth, then closed it again, hesitating. “It was just a suggestion,” he said eventually. “If you want, I’m sure one of the others would be happy to help out as well. Or you can just borrow some of the equipment around, I’ve got a ton of spare guitars, and we have about fifty keyboards, so—”

“I’d like to,” Keith blurted, jolting when he seemed to startle himself. “I want to…if you’re really sure.” He smiled slowly too, his eyes dropping from Shiro’s as he set his hands on his own legs carefully, palms lying flat against his thighs. “I mean, I’m sure you’re busy, and you don’t have to keep teaching me if you get any busier. And I know that we probably don’t have much time between the two of us anyway, but…” He swallowed, peeking back up at Shiro through his bangs. “If you did, it’d…be great.”

No, they didn’t have much time out here. Not in between gigs and rehearsal and the constant travel. But Shiro would _make_ time if he had to, if doing so meant that Keith looked the way he did now: eager, soft smile on his face, and happy and excited at the mere thought alone of learning.

Music touched everyone, in some way or another, and Shiro firmly believed that people were better for it. Better for something that was for entertainment, for the joy of emotion and human feeling. And Shiro had always known how incredibly lucky he had been for his dad to be able to afford lessons, to have taken the time to ferry him to and from concerts, rehearsals, and competitions. How lucky he was to have had the chance to learn and love his music so that he was here _now_ , somewhere where he could share his love with so many other people.

This might not have been a sold-out concert, or a crowd of thousands, but it was still just as important.

“I’d love to.” Shiro grinned, shifting with a groan so that he could sit cross-legged. “What are you interested in? Piano is probably easier to start with and you said that you already knew a bit, but I’m happy to go with guitar as well. It’s not too hard; you should get the hang of it pretty quickly.”

“Piano is cool.”

Shiro grinned.

“It is. We’ll start on that, then?”

Keith nodded, smiling. “Yeah. That’d—that’d be awesome, if you could teach me. Are you sure it’s not a problem? I know you’re busy...”

“Not a problem at all,” Shiro said firmly. “It’ll be good for me to do something different. Right now all I do in my free time is go to the gym.”

“Oh, so that’s why...” Keith gestured at the towel, and Shiro’s outfit.

Shiro smiled wryly. “Yeah. You’ll have noticed I don’t always walk around the Castle in gym clothes.”

“No,” Keith said slowly. “Just in your puppy pyjamas.”

Shiro blinked. What was Keith—oh. “That was one time!” he protested, but he was smiling. “And anyway, I love those pyjamas. They’re great.”

Keith laughed, turning back to the cable in his hands with a smile. “They are, but they’re not exactly a fashion statement, so you’ll get why I didn’t think that gym clothes were unusual for you.”

Shiro resisted the urge to pout, but he wasn’t sure whether or not he was successful. “Well...yeah, actually, don’t talk to the rest of the band, they’re not going to back me up on this one.” He sighed. “The number of times Pidge has laughed at my vest...and my boots...”

Keith raised an eyebrow. “The boots I get—”

“Why does everyone hate my boots?”

“—but the vest? It looks good on you.”

What.

“Ah, I mean it like...suits your hair and the...whole aesthetic.” The last few words were hurried, and Keith resolutely avoided his eye, clearing his throat. “But yeah, the boots are a bit of a problem.”

Shiro blinked. Boots? Oh. Right. His brain was still caught up on _it looks good on you_ and didn’t register—didn’t want to register—the change in topic regarding his clothing. “The boots,” he said primly, “are wonderful. They’re sturdy, and practical, and don’t hurt my feet when I’m jumping around on stage.”

“I noticed that you didn’t say that they were pretty, though.” Keith grinned, looking way too satisfied with himself.

Shiro opened his mouth...then closed it with a sigh. “No, no, I didn’t. But I still love them,” he said stubbornly.

Keith glanced at him and laughed. “You’re something else, Shiro.”

Shiro smiled winningly. “I hope it’s a good something.”

“Yeah, it is.” Keith placed down another cable, looking thoughtful. “You guys have more fame, and money, than probably the entire rest of the ship combined, but you’re still super...normal.”

Shiro shrugged. “We try hard to be. At the end of the day, we’re just a bunch of kids who got lucky, happened to be at the right place at the right time. We try to keep that in mind.”

“Still, it’s not something you see a lot of.” Keith sat back, placing his hands on the floor behind him as he leaned back. “I’ve worked in a studio most of my life, and yeah, you get the friendly ones and the ones who might want to give you lessons...” Shiro smiled at that. “But they’re usually young, or new to the business.”

“...So what you’re saying is that it’s weird that I’m nice ‘cause I’m old?”

Keith let out a strangled laugh. “No, stop that. It’s just stars as big as you don’t usually waste time on people like...me.”

Shiro smiled gently. “I get what you’re saying. But I meant what I said, too. We just try to keep sight of what we love, and what we love doing together. Everything after that is just details.”

“Just details, he says about the millions of people who come to their shows.” But Keith was smiling as he said it. “Like I said, something else.”

Oh, Keith’s smile was doing things to Shiro’s heart. He was watching Shiro softly and with something like a little bit of fondness. Shiro could feel his ears heating up from the attention, and he swallowed nervously, hoping Keith didn’t see.

“So...you’ve been working in a studio for quite a few years, but you never got around to even fiddling on a keyboard or anything?”

Keith gaze dropped to his knees. He didn’t move, and Shiro started to regret the question as Keith’s smile gradually faded from his face.

“Um, I didn’t mean anything—”

“Just never got the chance to,” Keith said quietly, voice a little hoarse. He cleared his throat, and then his smile was back, a little more brittle than before. “My boss keeps me pretty busy.”

“Sendak?”

“Ah, yeah, forgot you knew him. Sendak.”

“Right.” It really wasn’t. There was something here that Shiro was missing, but it wasn’t his place to pry. “Well, he’s not out here now and the only boss you’ve got is Hunk and Coran basically, and you’re doing more than enough.” Shiro waved at the pile of neatly stacked cables with a smile. “So you’ve definitely got time out here.”

Keith’s relaxed slowly, the odd moment passing like a cloud drifting over the sun. “I’m looking forward to it. When do you have time to meet up?”

Shiro hummed thoughtfully. “We’re just doing travel and set-up today, so tonight should be pretty free before this week’s shows. Want to hang out after dinner? I can show you around the rehearsal rooms a bit.”

“That sounds good. And you’re sure it’s okay for me to be there?”

“Yeah, it’s completely fine. Some of the Blade guys do jam sessions when they’ve got some free time. It’s not just for Voltron, we just use it the most ‘cause...well, we’ve got to practice,” Shiro said. “But everyone’s welcome to use the space.”

Keith nodded. “If you’re sure then.”

“Very sure.”

“Thanks.” Keith smiled. “For the offer. It should be good.”

Shiro nodded, grinning stupidly. He’d been wanting to figure out a way to get Keith to open up, and music seemed to be the solution, as it had been so many other times in Shiro’s life.

They sat in a comfortable silence for a little while, Shiro trying to think of other things they could talk about to fill the quiet, when his stomach decided to growl.

Keith laughed, and Shiro couldn’t decide if he wanted to hide in embarrassment, or listen to Keith laugh like that forever. “Ah, I guess I’m hungry.”

“I guess you are.” Keith stood, still grinning as he looked down at Shiro. “Did you eat before?”

“Yes,” Shiro said, feeling very betrayed by his stomach. “Well, a piece of toast. Maybe it wasn’t enough.”

“For a guy as big as you? Definitely not enough. C’mon, let’s go grab some breakfast, other people should be awake by now.”

Shiro got to his feet with a groan, stretching out his legs as he glanced at the clockon the wall. “Yeah. At least Hunk should be up, so we can beg some food off him.”

“Hunk doesn’t seem like the type of person you have to beg anything off,” Keith said, leading the way outside and down the hall. “He’s usually the one shoving food at me.”

“That’s ‘cause he likes you,” Shiro said. “Trust me, I have definitely seen him withhold dessert from people when they get on his bad side.”

“What? Hunk? He’s such a nice guy though.”

“Also easy to annoy, especially if you insult cooking. Not just his cooking, just cooking in general.” Shiro coughed. “I might’ve told him once that I didn’t get why you had to separately mix all the ingredients to bake a cake. Why not just dump it all in one bowl? He explained but I mean...it’s just cake. If it tastes like sugar, you’re doing it right.”

“I’m guessing he didn’t like that thinking?”

Shiro sighed. “Nope. He said that if I didn’t appreciate the smoothness or the airiness that came from the “sacred process”, I shouldn’t be eating cake.”

Keith laughed, glancing at Shiro. “You’re not serious.”

“Dead serious. So yeah, just stay on his good side.”

“I’ll try.”

They arrived at the dining hall, Shiro peaking his head around the door before entering. It was still very quiet, only a handful of people seated inside, the clinking of cutlery interspersed with sleepy murmurs. They made their way up to the counter, where Hunk was plating up breakfast foods from various planets.

“Morning, Hunk.” Although what Hunk was cooking looked delicious, it looked a little too heavy for Shiro right now and he instead poured himself a bowl of cereal. “How are you?”

“Morning, Shiro,” Hunk replied, not looking over from where he had turned away to watch his creations simmering away on the stove. “Not doing too badly. You?”

“Good, good.” Shiro slid away, gesturing for Keith to serve himself.

“Hey, Hunk,” Keith said, taking his own plates and cutlery.

At that, Hunk turned around, looking surprised. “Keith, hey. Didn’t come with Nyma and Rolo today?”

Ah, Nyma, not Nyla. That was the one.

Keith shook his head. “Got up early to fix some stuff, think they’re probably still sleeping right now.”

“But you came with Shiro,” Hunk observed, a slow grin spreading across his face as he sauntered over to the counter, turning his stove off. “What were you two doing together?” He propped his elbows on the counter, his chin on his hands, and waggled his eyebrows.

“Nothing, just—”

“I ran into him before, ‘cause—”

“We were just hanging out,” Keith said, grabbing a fork with more force than necessary. “I was fixing some stuff, and Shiro wandered in and we were just talking.”

Shiro nodded. “Yeah. That.”

Hunk laughed, straightening up again. “Well, “that” sounds great. Get some food, hanging out can be tiring.” Hunk beamed at them before turning away again, starting to whistle as he worked.

Shiro sighed, grabbing his tray and waiting for Keith to finish pouring a glass of apple juice. “Let’s go grab a table?”

Keith hesitated, before nodding and smiling softly. “Yeah, I’m starving.”

They settled down in a corner, eating breakfast quietly. Shiro didn’t mind the silence. It let him have a bit of space to simply enjoy Keith being next to him, his presence comfortable and simple.

A quiet which was destroyed when someone collapsed into the chair across from Shiro, glaring murder at everything and everyone.

“Ah. Morning, Allura.”

She grumbled, spooning up Altean goop without looking at Shiro.

Shiro cleared his throat. “This is Keith. He’s one of the crew.”

Allura seemed to notice that there was someone with Shiro for the first time, glancing up and sitting a little straighter. “Keith…nice to meet you. Allura.”

Keith glanced at Shiro, looking a little panicked. “Hi. Good to meet you, too.” He cleared his throat and stood, grabbing his tray. “Um, I’ll leave you guys to it.”

“Keith, it’s okay, you can still sit with us,” Shiro said, smiling hopefully.

But Keith shook his head. Still, he was smiling softly. “It’s fine. I promised Beezer I’d help wake up Nyma; it’s scared of her. But…I’ll see you tonight, right?”

“Yeah. Tonight.”

Keith waved, smiling as he turned away. “Later then. Bye, Allura.”

Allura managed to get her brain working long enough to say “enjoy your day, Keith,” which Shiro counted as a victory.

“See you, Keith.”

Allura squinted at Keith as he walked away, munching morosely. “Tonight, hey?”

Shiro looked at her, taking a very deliberate sip of water before he replied. “He’s wanted to learn music for years. I offered to help.”

Allura turned her suspicious gaze to Shiro instead, the beginnings of a smile tugging at her mouth. “I’m laughing at you later,” she muttered. “Too early to do it now.”

Shiro sat back with a sigh, watching Keith leave. “You know, I don’t even think I mind that much.” It had been a good morning, and he didn’t think anything could take that away from him.


	6. Chapter 6

The remainder of the day was pretty uneventful.

Shiro fiddled with a few chords on the piano, stringing together random notes as he ambled his way through their most recent hit. The title was very clearly one of Pidge’s— _The World’s On Fire And We Don’t Even Know It_ —because you could almost run out of breath just saying it. The song itself was similar—fast-paced, driving, and it left Shiro breathing heavily whenever they performed it.

Now that it _wasn’t_ time for performing, Shiro took the time to slow it down. He still kept it upbeat, the piano clanging in the confines of the room, but he didn’t feel like he was sprinting the way he usually did.

There was a soft knock, and Shiro stopped playing, looking up and smiling before he even landed eyes on Keith. And then he found his smile only getting wider when he saw him: hanging around the doorway, arms crossed, and he’d ditched his usual red jacket for a blue hoodie instead. “Keith, hey.”

Keith returned a tentative smile of his own. He entered slowly, eyes wandering a little, although there wasn’t all that much to take in. “Hey, Shiro. Your day go all right?”

Shiro nodded, swivelling in his chair to face Keith. “Yeah. Didn’t get up to much. Got to the gym before dinner to make up for this morning, which was nice.”

“Ah, sorry about that.”

Shiro waved a hand. “No, don’t be. Really isn’t a huge deal, and I liked talking to you,” Shiro said, smile soft.

Keith looked surprised for a moment, before he smiled gently too. “I liked seeing you too,” he replied, making Shiro’s heart do funny little turns. Keith seemed unaware of the effect though, walking over to where Shiro was seated in front of the piano, glancing at the scattered pages on the music stand curiously. “You working on something?”

Shiro shook his head, gathering up the loose pages and his notebook that hid behind them. “A couple of things just floating around in my head, but nothing concrete at the moment.”

“What were you playing then?” Keith asked, looking puzzled. “It didn’t sound like your usual stuff?”

“Ah, _The World’s On Fire And We Don’t Even Know It_.” Shiro smiled wryly as he said the words all in a rush. “Pidge titled that one. And yeah, it sounds pretty different when you haven’t got that bass line.”

“Oh, I thought it was weirdly familiar.”

“Yeah, it’s fun to play around with our songs sometimes. You should sit in on practice sometimes, we do that a lot when we’re all together.” Shiro stacked the pages neatly, dropping them on the floor. “All right, let’s get started. You got any ideas about what you want to learn? A song you like, or you just wanna go through the basics?”

“Um, basics are probably a good place to start. And…”

“Hm?”

“I’d like to learn _Blackout_ , if we can do that?”

Shiro tilted his head, oddly flattered. “You like it?”

“Yeah, it’s really cool. It’s really simple, but it all fits together really well. I like that.”

Shiro smiled. “I’m glad you do. It’s one of mine,” he added after a moment’s thought. It wasn’t something he usually felt the need to say, but to hear Keith say that he liked it was touching. And even if he tried to stay humble, he still appreciated positive reactions. “Or, the words are. It was all of us, but the lyrics and melody are mine.”

“Oh, that’s really cool,” Keith said with a grin. “You’ll be an expert then.”

“Well, I’ve never really taught before, so this will be an experience. Here, come sit down.” Shiro hopped up and grabbed another chair for himself, gesturing for Keith to take the longer stool instead.

Keith took the invitation, shifting around a little uncomfortably as he settled in. “Just here?”

“Shuffle a little over to your left,” Shiro said, tapping Keith lightly on the arm before sitting down himself. “Yep, that’s perfect. Do you know notes and stuff?”

Keith nodded. “Yeah, a little bit. I catch bits and pieces of what people talk about, but I guess I don’t know what the names mean? Like, when someone says to play a C major chord, I have no idea what that actually means. I just hear it a lot.” Keith shrugged, glancing at Shiro before dropping his gaze to the keyboard.

“Makes sense. So you probably figured that the notes go in alphabetical order,” Shiro said, smiling.

Keith looked up cautiously, returning the smile. “Yeah, I got that much.”

“Except for some reason, most things—or well, not most things, just some of the more important—well, not really…” Shiro frowned. Teaching something he’d learnt many, many years ago was actually quite hard. “Well, just we seem to be obsessed with C instead of A, which might have made a bit more sense being the first letter of the alphabet, but there you go. So general rule of thumb—”

“Thumb.” Keith raised his hands and wriggled his fingers with a mischievous grin. When Shiro glared at him, he laughed. “Sorry, sorry, couldn’t help it.”

Shiro sighed, but his glare faded in the face of Keith’s laughter. “Anyway,” Shiro continued. “General rule is to have your belly button in line with what we call middle C. So that’s this one here.” Shiro pressed it briefly, the note ringing out. “So where you’re sitting is good, and it’s where you generally want to be.” He drew an invisible line to Keith’s stomach with his hand.

(And maybe he leaned a little more into Keith’s space than was strictly necessary, but Keith didn’t seem to complain.)

“Right.” Keith shifted a little on the seat, satisfied that he was positioned correctly.

“I guess we can build around _Blackout_. It uses one of the most basic chord progressions there are, so you’ll be able to play plenty of things with this pattern.” Shiro started to step through the chords to demonstrate, trying not to get too distracted by how cute Keith was when he focussed fiercely.

Keith followed along, concentrating so that he could get the notes right. He was unfamiliar with the physical motions, but his determination made Shiro smile fondly as he encouraged Keith to take it slowly. “Patience yields focus,” he said, repeating something his father often said to him. “Just take it slowly, we’re not in a rush.”

And Keith would nod in that grave way of his, trying again and again to get through the song with Shiro next to him. After a while, he slowly got the hang of it, and Shiro could let him play without any assistance apart from a correction here or there. _Blackout_ came together slowly, Shiro picking through the melody in the higher parts of the piano. It was a relaxing way to pass the time and Shiro found himself enjoying it even more than he’d expected.

Eventually, Shiro glanced at the clock, blinking at how much time had passed without him noticing. “Oh, it’s getting late. We should probably head to bed,” he said reluctantly.

Keith followed his gaze, seeming to deflate a little too. “Oh. Guess we should then.” But he didn’t make any move to get up, observing the keyboard for another moment.

Shiro smiled, nudging him. “You’re not going to remember more just by staring at it, you know. Go to sleep, it’s good for your brain.”

Keith laughed, nudging Shiro back gently. “Okay, okay. But I wasn’t trying to like, absorb the keyboard into my brain. It just reminded me of something nice.”

“We can figure out a time next week, if you want,” Shiro suggested hopefully. “I had fun, too.”

“I’d like that. It was nice.” Keith smiled softly. “Reminded me of my mum. Er, well, not you. Just…the piano, the music. You don’t look like my mum.”

Shiro laughed. “I hope not,” he teased. “I’ll be sure to let her know you thought that if I ever meet her.” The smile on Keith’s face slipped a little, and Shiro mentally kicked himself; he had to remember that he couldn’t tease and laugh at someone he’d only known for a few weeks the same way he usually did with his band. “I am glad you liked it,” he rushed to say, hoping to make it better. “We can find a time next week between gigs. Should be good.”

“You sure you’re okay with continuing?”

Shiro nodded firmly. “Yeah, it’s actually quite relaxing. You’re easy to hang out with, Keith.”

Keith looked pleased, the momentary dip in his mood gone. “Ah, cool. Cool. Next week sounds good, then.”

“It does.” Shiro gathered up his jacket, shrugging it on and starting to head back into the hallway. “C’mon,” he said, gesturing for Keith to follow. “We should get some sleep. The schedule’s gonna be a lot busier from tomorrow on.”

Keith followed obediently, flicking off the light. “How are you guys holding up?”

“Hm? What do you mean?”

“I don’t know, are you tired, run down? Seems pretty exhausting. You’ve been jumping around and screaming a lot on stage.”

Shiro laughed. “Yeah, that’s pretty much my whole career, isn’t it?” He shoved his hands in his pockets, humming as they walked. It was sweet of Keith to ask about their wellbeing. “Not too bad. We’ve had way worse tours. Nerves the first few shows, but nothing unusual. I guess we…haven’t got as much to prove anymore. I remember our first tour, was just around Europe. And we were up for a bunch of award shows and other nominations, and it was…intense.”

Although the band had been together for a while at that point, it’d been the first time they’d really been on the international stage. It had been terrifying. “Felt like the whole world was watching us, even if we knew that it would keep on spinning even if we didn’t live up to expectations. Or maybe that was why it was so frightening. But yeah, a lot less pressure now. Still some, of course, just…different. We know what people like a bit better, so it’s a little easier to figure out how to give that to them.”

“That’s good to hear. You guys work really well together; it’s good to see it paying off.”

“Well, it’s only ‘cause we have wonderful people like yourself looking after us,” Shiro said, winking.

Keith rolled his eyes, but he smiled. “Shiro, no.”

“It’s true! First gig we had a crew a lot smaller, and it was hectic. I managed to leave my guitar behind in the first hotel we stayed at.” Shiro scrunched his nose, still irritated at himself years later. “We were on the way to the airport, and we had to double back and add an hour of useless travelling time to go get it.”

“Glad to know even you get frazzled sometimes.”

It was funny, because the frazzling seemed to happen so often when he was around Keith, but Shiro didn’t say that. “I’m only human,” is what he said instead, and Keith snorted.

“Really now? The way you jump around stage, thought you were a kangaroo.”

Shiro froze, staring at Keith. What was—? “What the hell was that?” he asked, bursting out laughing. “Oh my god, Keith, that’s _horrendous_.”

Keith slowed down a little but kept walking, grinning unapologetically over his shoulder. “What? It’s great.”

“That was so _bad_.” Shiro chuckled as he took a few quick steps to catch up, shaking his head. “Horrendous.”

“I heard you tell your interrupting cow joke to two separate people in the space of an hour a couple of days ago. You don’t get to judge me.”

Shiro stopped smiling. “The interrupting cow joke is the only good knock knock joke there is,” he said seriously. “It’s important.”

Keith snorted dismissively. “You being a kangaroo isn’t funny, but you shouting ‘moo’ at unsuspecting light technicians is?”

“Yes.”

Now it was Keith’s turn to shake his head. “You really are something else,” he said, as he’d said this morning.

“Something else good?” Shiro asked again hopefully.

“Nope,” Keith said, but his smile said otherwise. “Nothing good about you at _all_. Just bad jokes.”

Shiro pouted. “It’s not just jokes. I’m bad at other things too.”

Keith laughed. “Right. Sorry, I forgot about that. You’re just so Mr Perfect Superstar all the time, it’s easy to forget that you wear those stupid boots.”

Shiro went to yell, but then deflated. “I like them,” he said.

“I know, I know. They’re great boots.”

“Thank you, Keith. I appreciate that.”

They slowed as they approached Keith’s room, then lingered outside it. Shiro didn’t really want to leave Keith yet, but they both needed sleep.

“I remember walking you back here,” he said, hoping for the moment and the laughter to just last a little bit longer. “Seems like ages ago.”

“Yeah, the time’s gone quickly.” All too soon, Keith reached for the palm scanner, ready to turn in. “I’ll…see you tomorrow then?”

“Yep, I’ll see you tomorrow.” Shiro smiled. “Night, Keith.”

“Night…”

Shiro walked away, hands still tucked in his pockets and heart feeling wonderfully light. Then a voice interrupted his thoughts, and he paused.

“Shiro?”

“Hm?” Shiro turned, stopping when he saw that Keith was watching him with an odd expression. Something that was a little pained. Something that was a little sad. “What is it?”

“I…” Keith shifted on his feet, crossing his arms. “I don’t have a mum.”

Shiro blinked. Where had _that_ come from? Wait, Keith had talked as if…

“Huh?” _Not_ dignified at all.

“I’m sorry I lied,” Keith said in a rush, looking distressed. “I didn’t—I didn’t mean to, I just—”

“Hey, Keith, it’s okay.” Shiro walked over quickly, reaching out and rubbing Keith’s arm gently on instinct. “You don’t have you apologise, I’m just…surprised, that’s all. You…kinda talked like…you do?”

“You asked me about my family, and I couldn’t really be…bothered…explaining the whole thing to a stranger. Except now you’re not a stranger anymore, and I felt kinda bad making you believe that I still had family when I don’t.”

Shiro smiled gently. “That’s okay. I get why you might do that.”

Wait…

“…Family. Not just your…mum?”

“Yeah, I—I don’t remember much of anyone. The only one I remember is Mum, and a bit of Dad, maybe, but even that’s really blurry. Don’t really have anyone waiting for me back on Earth, except for Sendak.”

“Wait, your boss?”

“Yeah, I’ve been working for him forever. He let me live with him when I was a kid. I’ve pretty much always worked for him, part-time when I was a kid, and then it just…turned into a full-time thing.”

Working from such a young age to support himself, with what seemed like hardly any emotional support? “You’re tough,” Shiro said quietly, full of admiration. “Sounds like you’ve had to work really hard.”

Keith shrugged. “It was a job. And better than not having a job.”

“Still. Thanks for telling me.” Shiro realised he still had his hand on Keith’s arm, and hastily patted Keith’s shoulder, before letting his hand slip back down to hang by his side. “You didn’t have to, but I’m glad you’re comfortable enough to.”

“You’re my friend.” The way Keith said it was hesitant, a little unsure, but with an earnestness that warmed Shiro’s heart. “You deserve to know.”

“And I feel very lucky to have you count me as a friend,” Shiro said with a smile. “Now stop worrying, and get some sleep.”

Keith opened his mouth, then closed it again, observing Shiro’s face.

Then his hand darted out, squeezing Shiro’s arm gently, before releasing it just as quickly. “Night, Shiro.” He ducked his head, pressing his palm against the reader, and dissapeared inside his room before Shiro could even blink.

Shiro watched the door slide shut, arm feeling pleasantly warm where Keith had touched him.

Then his mouth slowly curved into a smile. “Good night, Keith,” he said softly, before heading back to his room.

* * *

They had another few lessons in the week following the first, and Keith enjoyed them. He learnt a lot too, things that he hadn’t known before, and soon enough he was plodding his way—still hesitantly, but plodding al the same—through many songs that were familiar to him from the Blackout Tour.

There was a problem, though. The problem was that, more and more, Keith found himself daydreaming about the lessons…and about Shiro.

Shiro. Shiro who seemed to take far too great an interest in Keith, everything considered. Shiro who was patient, good-natured, and...kind of dumb, if Keith was to be honest. Their lessons usually involved music for only half an hour—although it would still be a half hour that Keith loved and cherished—before their conversation would inevitably wander off course, retreating to stories of Shiro’s childhood, or of that one time Keith witnessed singing sensation Blatyz spill coffee all over his date. Shiro had found that one particularly amusing, and Keith remembered Shiro’s ridiculous laugh—more like a guffaw—at the story.

Not for the first time, he wondered how that image—Shiro doubled over on the piano stool, wheezing uncontrollably—reconciled with _this_ : Shiro up on stage, gorgeous beneath the stage lights and the glitter and shimmer of fireworks. Some part of Keith knew, and was getting used to, the fact that Shiro and the rest of Voltron were only human. That they laughed and ate and slept just like the rest of them. Over the past few months, and the past few weeks of lessons in particular, it had been hard _not_ to realise that Shiro was more than a celebrity figure fit for magazine covers and talk shows. But still, seeing Shiro’s face reflected across five different screens with his impeccable makeup and ridiculously styled hair, it was weird to think of how brightly Shiro had laughed and how open and human he had been.

Weirder still to realise that, one way or another, they had progressed from being colleagues or acquaintances into...something like friends.

Keith thought of how he’d blurted out the truth about his family. He’d never meant for it to be a lie or to mislead, and the more time that had passed without Shiro getting sick of him, the guiltier Keith had felt about it. Not telling the whole truth to someone he never thought he’d see again was one thing. It was another to keep pretending with someone that he cared about.

“You’re my friend,” he’d told Shiro, and he had meant it. It felt stupid to say it out loud—most people didn’t need to _declare_ something like that—but it had also felt necessary. Or at least, it had at the time. Keith didn’t have a lot of friends, so when there was someone who could hold a conversation with him for over five minutes, who actually wanted to spend time with him and who he didn’t find draining to be around…

That was something special. Something important.

And Keith knew that. What he hadn’t expected was for it to be _so_ important that Shiro’s smile from their latest session floated in his mind’s eye even while he was working.

Sure, Keith could count on one hand (although he was beginning to need his second) the number of people that he spoke to on a regular basis on board the ship. But that didn’t mean that all those were constantly on his mind, their voice and their laughter echoing in his heart to make it flutter ridiculously. Being a _friend_ , or close enough to it, didn’t mean that Keith constantly thought about them, constantly sought them out subconsciously even when he had no reason to.

Being anyone else’s friend didn’t involve his heart skipping a beat when Shiro stopped singing abruptly, halfway through his song, to let out a muttered, “ _Ow_.”

Keith was just reaching for a box backstage, lost in the sound of Shiro’s smooth tones, when the sound echoed through the stadium. His head snapped up from his task to look to the screen that hung on the wall, monitoring the stage, but the camera was too far away and Keith couldn’t see what was going on. The band had stopped playing—that much was certain—but other than that it was just a blurry figure of Shiro standing still on stage, the rest of the band looking his way. Keith frowned, leaving the box to move closer to the monitor, not that it helped the view.

Why had Shiro sounded like he was in pain? Would he be okay to go on? Keith hoped that Shiro wasn’t injured, and he glanced at Thace, unsure of what the situation was.

Thace frowned. “Something’s wrong with Shiro’s guitar.” With a few taps of his fingers, he’d zoomed in on his screen, talking rapidly in Galra with Ulaz on the other end.

Then he turned, looking around the room, and yellow eyes landed on Keith. “Keith, Shiro’s guitar strap just broke. It appears that he managed to prevent himself from dropping the instrument entirely, but I believe the loose strap is now tangled with something.”

“On it,” Keith said, already darting up the stairs that led to the stage. Shiro seemed to suffer from a disproportionate amount of these problems, Keith thought, remembering that he’d had to rescue Shiro during that very first gig when his mic had screwed up.

When Keith mounted the stairs, there was a guilty-looking Shiro waiting for him. He was bracing his guitar awkwardly, holding it at chest height, and once Keith got closer, he could see that it was because the strap dangling over his shoulder was somehow caught in one of the panels of his prosthetic.

Shiro had been saying something to the audience, but then he stopped mid-sentence once he spotted Keith, sighing in relief. “And here comes my lifesaver. Everyone, this is Keith.”

Keith did _not_ expect the roar from the crowd, and he actually froze for a moment, staring out at the sea of people that were cheering for him. This was more attention than he’d gotten from anyone over the past twenty-odd years combined, and it was honestly a little overwhelming.

But—Shiro. Tangled. Recovering quickly, Keith waved awkwardly, smiling tentatively at the crowd (they couldn’t see him anyway, so why did he even think that was necessary?) as he hurried to Shiro’s side. “Bit of an exaggeration, Shiro,” he murmured, once he got close enough for Shiro to hear him.

Shiro just grinned. “You _are_ a lifesaver,” he said, his voice echoing in the stadium. “Keith doesn’t agree with me, what do you guys—”

There was another deafening roar—screams mixed with applause and wolf-whistles and cheering—but this time Keith was a little more prepared, and he smiled as he placed his hands on Shiro’s shoulders to steady him.

“Hold still,” he said, tracing his hands down the strap to find where it was caught. Standing in front of Shiro, he tried to ignore how close they were, almost pressed up against each other as he tugged on the strap to try and loosen it. Shiro didn’t seem to think anything of it, so Keith tried to pretend that it was nothing out of the ordinary for him either.

Fake it ‘til you make it, right?

But in this case, Keith wasn’t sure he was going to make it.

It was just that, this close, he could feel the way that Shiro was panting, how his breath was heaving in and out of his chest. This close, Shiro radiated heat, energy buzzing through his body as his fingers twitched and muscles jolted, waiting for Keith to finish up.

This close, Keith was getting a little giddy from Shiro’s presence.

Keith had to concentrate. He couldn’t get distracted by Shiro’s warmth, or the accidental brush of his fingers along Shiro’s bicep. He couldn’t get distracted because it was frankly a waste of time to be attracted to an intergalactic superstar. Not unexpected—maybe even predictable—but impractical.

Feeling the satisfying lack of resistance of something coming free, Keith made a triumphant noise. “Got it.” He pulled the strap away, rolling it up to press against the guitar.

Beside him, someone else passed Shiro a new guitar, and Shiro nodded in thanks, before he seemed to stop short again. Frowning, Shiro looked down, but then he stopped moving once more. “Uh, hold up, Keith I think something else, my waistband…”

Keith rested his hand briefly on Shiro’s elbow to stop him twisting around, walking behind him to check where there were a series of small, thumb-sized devices clipped to the waistband of Shiro’s pants, flashing various colours to indicate that they were working. What they did, Keith wasn’t entirely sure—stage positioning, sound enhancement, and a whole bunch of other things that weren’t part of Keith’s job to worry about. “Just hold still for a moment.” Keith dropped down on one knee behind Shiro, flicking the switch on each one to check that they were working.

This was a mistake. This whole gig was a mistake, and Thace should never have sent him up here. Because this? This was doing nothing for a crush that Keith had been trying to deny since he had met Shiro and been dazzled by his blinding smile the very first day they’d boarded the ship.

‘This’ being the fact that Keith was now very carefully tugging at the hem of Shiro’s vest, pulling it up a little so that he could get to his waistband. The force from the guitar being yanked away must have knocked something askew, and Keith had to hold the vest aside so he could check. He tried to hold it gingerly between two of his fingers, but the vest was simply too stiff to be tamed like that.

 _It’s nothing. Just work_. _Keep it professional_. Steeling himself, he lifted the vest slightly, and wrapped one hand around Shiro’s hip to hold the cloth back.

Above him, Shiro froze. Just a brief second, but the reaction had been there.

“Sorry,” he said, hoping that Shiro could hear him above the hubbub of the crowd. “I’ll be real quick.”

Shiro didn’t reply for a moment, and Keith assumed it was because he didn’t want any more of their conversation being broadcast to the crowd. But then he spoke, just a simple “take your time” that was barely more than a hoarse murmur, and Keith tried not to think of how Shiro’s voice had dipped lower.

It was just the tips of his fingers against the warmth of Shiro’s skin. Nothing much, nothing remarkable. But it was more than that touch. It was the weight of Shiro’s presence against Keith’s palm, and the firm press of his hip to Keith’s hand that had Keith struggling to concentrate on yanking apart the source of the problem—a tangled cable—one-handed.

It felt like an eternity, but in reality probably only took a few seconds. When he was finally done, Keith felt relief wash over him as he drew his hands away immediately, letting the vest fall back down to cover Shiro’s waist once more, although there was just the slightest echo of disappointment as he did so. He stood up straight, nodding at Shiro. “You’re good to go.”

Shiro still seemed a little breathless, but the smile he flashed at Keith was brilliant. “Thanks, Keith,” he said. Then he clapped Keith on the shoulder, squeezing, the heat from his hand like a brand across Keith’s skin before he finally stepped back.

Keith ran back down the stairs backstage again, not hearing—and not really caring—what Shiro was starting to say to the crowd again. His ears felt like they were on fire, and he ducked his head as he entered the control room where Thace was again, glancing up at Thace before looking away.

“All good,” he said, words getting caught in his throat. He coughed, and swallowed the dryness in his mouth. “It’s all good,” he repeated. “Should be fine.”

“Thank you, Keith.” There was slight amusement in Thace’s words, although the smile he gave Keith was polite, and a little fond. “I’m sure Shiro will be very grateful for your help.”

Keith nodded quickly, moving to where Rolo was carrying a keyboard. “Yep. Here, lemme help with that, Rolo.” Work. He needed work, not to think about impossible crushes on ridiculously attractive celebrities. It would never happen, and there was no point wasting his time with it.

* * *

Later that night, Keith lay in bed, not really able to sleep. He hadn’t been able to see Shiro after the show. There usually wasn’t reason to, and they’d never done it before, so Keith couldn’t figure out why it bothered him so much that he hadn’t lain eyes on Shiro. He wanted to make sure Shiro was okay, but he hadn’t heard of any problems. Gossip seemed to travel faster than their ship through a wormhole, so if Shiro had any lasting pain or injury, Keith was sure he would’ve heard about it by now.

Plus, he’d seen him on stage. He’d helped _fix_ his strap on stage, and Shiro had seemed absolutely fine then. He didn’t need Keith fretting over him constantly, and it was a waste of time to worry about something which he couldn’t do anything about.

Still, it took him a long time to fall asleep. Shiro’s small cry of pain kept echoing through his mind, and he kept seeing Shiro’s expression of relief when Keith had walked onto stage.

And maybe there had been something else mixed in there too, and Keith fell asleep absently puzzling over what else Shiro might have felt when he saw him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IS TEACHING KEITH PIANO SHIRO NOT ONE OF THE MOST BEAUTIFUL SHIRO'S YOU HAVE EVER SEEN??? Pls go yell at [Law](http://daimeiwakuvld.tumblr.com) about how good he is.


	7. Chapter 7

The next day was a transit day and so essentially a day off, and Keith had spent the better part of it hanging out with Rolo and Nyma to help out with repairs on Beezer. Though he’d been distracted with that task; in the back of his mind he still planned to find Shiro some time during the day, and it was hard to concentrate on repairs when he had that thought in his mind. He’d still heard nothing on the Castle grapevine about Shiro being unwell (only about two of the Blade employees apparently having been caught with their foreheads pressed gently together in a supply closet), but he still felt oddly...discomfited, not having seen Shiro with his own eyes yet.

His worry only grew when Shiro didn’t show up to lunch. Keith stood in the middle of the dining area, tray in hand, looking around with a frown for the familiar mop of hair. He had little success, and he sighed, turning towards where Rolo and Nyma were waving him over.

“Looking for Shiro?”

Keith turned at the familiar voice, surprised to see Allura standing right behind him, a tray in her own hands. “Oh, hey, Allura. Uh, yeah. I am. He’s not coming to lunch?”

Allura shook her head, her hair swinging from side to side as she did so. “Not today; he’s having a rest in his room.”

Keith’s heart did an uncomfortable little flip. “Wait, what’s wrong? Is he okay? I thought—”

“He’s fine, he’s fine.” Allura smiled, raising her hand to stop the questions. “He’s just resting a short while today. You know how the guitar strap broke yesterday night?”

Keith nodded; he _had_ been right there.

“The weight wasn’t very good for his arm. He has been overworking himself a little lately.” Allura rolled her eyes, sighing, and Keith got the feeling that this was an old argument. “So physically he wasn’t at his best. He’ll recover soon enough.”

“Right…” Keith rocked on his heels. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

Allura smiled gently. “I’m sure he wouldn’t mind a friendly face, but otherwise he’ll recover by himself.”

Shiro wouldn’t mind a friendly face, but was it weird to visit? Were they close enough for that yet, or was their status still firmly enough in the colleagues territory that arriving unannounced at Shiro’s room would be awkward and invasive? “I’m glad to hear that.”

Allura hummed, then her soft smile turned into more of a grin. “Didn’t realise you would miss him.” There was something sly in her voice, something teasing.

Keith thought he knew what she was getting at, but he just looked down, shrugging. “I just thought it was weird that he wasn’t around, that’s all.”

“Well, if you’re looking, he’s right in his bedroom.” Allura smiled again. “Although I shouldn’t keep you from your lunch much longer. Would you like to join us?” She tilted her head towards a table where Pidge was already seated.

“Um, no, I’m okay.” Keith smiled. Allura’s offer seemed genuine, and his heart warmed at the gesture. “My friends have already got a table. But thanks. Maybe—maybe next time?”

“Next time then.” Allura’s smile was radiant as she turned away, fluttering her fingers in a little wave. “Enjoy your meal, Keith.”

“Thanks.” Keith watched her leave to join Pidge, before he turned away to join his own friends.

_Didn’t realise you would miss you._

Well, that made two of them.

* * *

 

This was ridiculous.

Keith glanced down at his phone—and he seemed to have done that at least twenty times in the past minute—to find that seventeen minutes had passed since he’d arrived. Even as he looked, the numbers changed. Make that eighteen.

Eighteen minutes spent staring at this god damn _door_. Eighteen minutes spent raising his hand to knock, then walking away, then walking back, then hesitating as he lifted his hand again. The only reason he wasn’t screaming in frustration at himself was the knowledge that _Shiro_ was behind that door, and that the walls were not soundproof.

“ _I’m sure he wouldn’t mind a friendly face_.”

But what if he _did_? Shiro saw enough of Keith on a daily basis, especially with the lessons and everything. If he wasn’t feeling well, he probably just wanted some quiet; that was how Keith recharged usually, so maybe Shiro also preferred some peace without someone disturbing him every two seconds?

But he hadn’t come to dinner either, though Keith had seen Hunk set aside a tray of the night’s pasta, which he’d then taken away with him after the dinner crowd had quietened down. Knowing Hunk, Shiro wouldn’t go hungry, but Keith still wasn’t sure what ‘not feeling well’ meant. Was he sick? Injured? Just having a bad day and wanting to avoid people?

If that was the case, he definitely didn’t want Keith invading his space and disturbing some well-deserved rest time. Maybe he should just—

The door slid open with a whir, and the object of all Keith’s distress stepped out into the hallway—and right into him.

“Whoa, sorry!”

Keith stumbled backwards when Shiro ran into him, and then there was a hand on his arm, steadying him as he regained his footing.

“I’m so—” Shiro blinked. “Keith?”

Keith’s heart pounded as he tried to smile, although he was sure it came out as more of a grimace. “Hey, Shiro. Ah, sorry about that.” He winced, hating how his voice sounded. For another moment, his heart was about to pound right out of his ribcage.

Then Shiro _beamed_ down at him, his face lighting up with joy. “Hey! Why—how are you?”

“I’m good. Full from dinner. You?”

“Yeah, had a good dinner.” Shiro tilted his head, and it was a cute gesture when paired with the soft smile he sent Keith’s way. “Is there something I can help you with?”

Keith looked at him, puzzled. “No, why?”

“Well…you were pretty close to my door.” Now it was Shiro’s turn to look confused. “Were you looking for me, or…?”

Yes, Keith had forgotten that it wasn’t a usual post-dinner activity to just hang around outside people’s room. “Oh, right. I just—I heard you weren’t feeling great. Thought I’d check up on you.”

Shiro’s expression softened from radiant joy into something a little fonder. “I appreciate it.”

Shiro didn’t _look_ too sick or injured. Keith’s heart settled a little to see Shiro whole and apparently healthy, and it was only because he could relax a bit that he smiled wryly. “So…are you okay, then?”

Shiro nodded hurriedly. “Yeah, I’m fine, I’m fine. Just didn’t sleep well last night so…” He scratched the back of his neck, looking slightly embarrassed. “I ended up taking a nap over lunch. Then I was still feeling a little groggy so Hunk offered to bring me food instead. I really am fine. Though I need to find Coran. You have any idea where he is?”

Keith shook his head. “Saw him at dinner. Safe bet is probably his room?”

Shiro clicked his tongue. “Yeah. I’m going to have to go find him, did you…?”

“I’ll come,” Keith said immediately.

Shiro smiled, looking relieved. “Thanks.” He started heading down the hallway, and Keith followed.

“So what do you need Coran for?”

Shiro sighed. “Painkillers.”

Keith frowned. “Wait, Shiro, are you really okay?”

“Yeah, I am, it’s just…” He sighed again, and for a moment, he looked more tired than Keith had ever seen. “So when my strap broke last night and got all tangled up, it tugged at my arm. Usually it’d be fine, but I’ve been feeling—”

“Number One, _what_ on Altea are you doing outside your bedroom?”

Keith recognised that voice. “Think we found Coran.” He grinned up at Shiro before turning around.

Coran was _furious_. “You are meant to be resting!”

“Ah, Coran—”

“I told you that I would make you tallicrat tea, but you refused, and on _one_ condition! That you would stay in your room, and recuperate as you ought—”

“I ran out of painkillers,” Shiro interrupted. He rushed on when Coran finally stopped. “I wanted to see if you had some.”

Coran blinked, before recovering quickly. “Ah, of course! However, we had an unfortunate…incident with them earlier.”

Shiro looked puzzled. “What do you mean?”

Keith frowned…then sighed when he realised. “Nyma ate them all, didn’t she?”

Shiro looked to him. “What, _all_ of them?”

“That is correct.” Coran nodded, sighing. “She mistook them for Altean nutrients and…well, our dosages are rather a lot higher than Earth ones.”

Keith glanced at Shiro, who’d raised his hand to his shoulder, kneading at it. “So…”

“I can head to the chemist down the road,” Coran offered. “I’m sure I will—”

“You’re busy,” Shiro interrupted. “You’ve got all the prep work for tomorrow, I’m not making you go on a chemist trip. I’ll go.”

Keith frowned. “If you’re not feeling well, you shouldn’t wander around by yourself.”

Shiro shrugged. “I’ll be fine. It’s not that far.” He smiled, and it was probably meant to be reassuring. But Keith could see that it was a little tight at the corners, and although he’d lowered his hand, there was still tension to the set of his shoulders.

Keith’s heart twinged both at the thought of Shiro’s discomfort, and in annoyance. “Don’t be dumb. I’ll go.”

Shiro looked surprised, his eyes wide despite a slight grimace of pain. “Ah, Keith, you don’t have to do that. I’m fine going by myself.”

“Absolutely not!” Coran protested, at the same time that Keith said, “No, you’re not.”

Keith frowned, gesturing at Shiro’s arm. “You’re not feeling good, you shouldn’t be walking around, let alone by yourself,” he repeated. “Stay here, I can go. It’s not going to take that long.”

“I can’t just send you off on errands for me.” Shiro shook his head firmly. “I’m gonna go but…if you really don’t want me going by myself, I’d welcome the company.”

“You should stay here,” Keith insisted.

“Keith, I’ve been cooped up all day. A walk will be good for me.” This time when Shiro smiled, it was a little brighter. “And it’ll only be quick.”

Keith scowled at him a moment longer, before relenting. “Fine. But if you start not feeling good, you turn right back around.”

“Yes, Boss.” Shiro grinned, nodding in the direction of the elevators. “C’mon, before it gets too dark out.”

Keith rolled his eyes at the nickname, but followed, the two of them bidding Coran goodbye. Soon enough, they were strolling down the street in the dark of the night. This planet in particular was moonless, so the night sky was only an expanse of black peppered by stars, their path lit up by streetlights floating in the air.

“Are you _sure_ you’re okay being out here?” Keith asked again, and Shiro nodded firmly.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I promise.” He smiled winningly, and Keith might’ve been convinced, if Shiro didn’t then grimace and duck his head, sucking his breath in through his teeth.

“I’m fine,” Shiro repeated, catching Keith’s worried glance. “Just hurts a little, but once we get some medicine it’ll be okay.”

“Okay…” Keith said doubtfully, keeping a watchful eye on him. “What—can I ask what happened? It’s okay if you don’t want to say,” Keith said quickly, in case Shiro felt obliged. “I get it if you wanna keep it to yourself, and Allura already told me that you hurt your arm from the guitar anyway. I was just…curious.”

The worry that had started to bubble at the thought that he might’ve come off as too pushy was soothed when Shiro smiled at him. “Keith, it’s fine. You’re allowed to ask.” Shiro shook out his arm a little, flexing his fingers. “What Allura told you is the main gist of it, though. Guitar fell, strap got stupidly caught in uh, my arm.” Shiro rubbed at the joint, looking a little self-conscious. “Doesn’t happen often, but I don’t think it likes how much I’ve been using it. Then you came and rescued me,” he finished with a bright grin.

Keith ducked his head. He hated that Shiro made it sound like something special, when it wasn’t. “Was just doing my job.”

Shiro hummed happily. “Still. I’m grateful. And yeah, as you’ve probably noticed yourself, touring is a bit rough.”

The constant travelling, the late nights, and the never-ending list of chores were rough. Keith himself hadn’t realised that when he’d first boarded the ship. “You need to be more careful, then,” Keith said, frowning. Keith might not have realised, but Shiro should’ve known.

“I try! I just can’t help it sometimes. The show must go on, and everything,” he said with a wry grin.

Keith rolled his eyes, but he laughed. “I guess. Just be careful with yourself, okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, I will.” Shiro bumped his shoulder lightly against Keith’s, and Keith’s heart stuttered at the contact. And now that Shiro had moved closer, their arms were brushing gently against each other, and Keith couldn’t think of much else other than the way that Shiro’s arm would occasionally touch his. Shiro’s hand was also incredibly close—close enough for them to link fingers. Keith had never had anyone’s hand to hold, and he tucked his own away in his pockets to avoid the odd temptation. Better to keep some distance than to make this weird.

Yet despite that, for the rest of their journey to the chemist, Keith didn’t move away.

* * *

The way back was equally uneventful, the two of them enjoying the quiet between them. Keith had a paper bag in hand (he’d insisted that he carry it rather than Shiro), two bottles of human painkillers tucked away amongst a receipt.

Keith tried to hurry the two of them along, and with every step he took he regretted the fact that he forgot to remind Shiro to buy water. They were more than halfway back now, and it was too late to turn back—and too late for Shiro to take the pills before they got back.

Watching Shiro grimace again—obviously trying to hide it—Keith worried. “We’re almost there,” he said, glancing up. The Castle wasn’t quite in sight yet, but they’d surely been walking for long enough.

“It’s all right, Keith. A few more minutes aren’t gonna kill me.”

“Still, you shouldn’t be hurting.”

“It’s fine.” Despite his words, Shiro lifted his hand to rub at his arm.

“Can—can I ask how you got your arm?”

Whatever it was, Keith hadn’t been expecting Shiro’s usual bright smile, and a shrug of his shoulders. “Sure. Nothing too exciting though. Car crash.”

Keith winced. “Ah, I’m sorry.”

But Shiro surprised him again, and shook his head. “Don’t be,” he said firmly. “I was really little, and it was a freak accident more than anything. Faulty brakes, car ploughed into my school.”

“Jesus.” Keith let out a breath. “That’s horrible.”

“Yeah…can’t say it was a great situation. But, it happened. Took a while for them to get around to fitting the prosthetic, and rehab took even longer. But funny thing is, that’s how I really got into music.”

Keith looked up at him, puzzled. “Hmm?”

“Rehab,” Shiro clarified. “They needed for me to retrain the fingers on my right hand for fine motor movements. So I had a bunch of daily exercises, and I used piano and guitar to help me train.” Ah yes, Shiro had mentioned that in passing before. “In a way, that’s what started all of this.”

Keith smiled. “I’m glad you got that out of it, at least. I’m sorry it hurts you now though.”

“It’s okay. It happened a long time ago. And besides, if it hadn’t happened, maybe I wouldn’t have done any of this. I don’t think I would’ve been here otherwise. And…I like where I am, honestly.” He smiled, and when he looked to Keith, his expression was fond. His voice was gentle, and the softness of his expression made Keith’s heart ache. “I really do.”

It was too much.

It was too much to think that Shiro meant that he liked Keith’s company. It was too much to think that maybe the soft look in Shiro’s eyes was for Keith alone. Of course he would be happy with where he was—he had money, fame, and a job where he was surrounded by his closest friends and adoring strangers. All of that had existed before Keith came along, and it was too _much_ to think that he might make any difference to any of it.

Keith looked away, pointing at the tip of the Castle which had just come into view. “Looks like we’re almost back,” he said, hurrying Shiro along. “Let’s get you some water.”

(Next to him, Shiro didn’t let himself frown. He didn’t let a single thing show on his face except for quiet contentment, but there was a moment of disquiet in his heart.)

They continued the rest of the way in silence, Keith ushering Shiro into the kitchen as soon as they got back.

“Keith, I can get my own water,” Shiro said, sounding slightly exasperated when Keith went to fill a glass for him. But there was that fondness again, and Keith looked away.

“It’s really no trouble.” And Shiro had been hurt. He should be resting as much as possible. The show _was_ rough, and Keith couldn’t imagine all the things that Shiro had to take care of. Rehearsals, performances, the occasional interview or two that popped up here and there. And then all the things in between—Shiro always went out of his way to have a chat with a member of their crew if he ran into them, or help Hunk out with dinner when he was able.

And then he had to go and take on teaching Keith music, too. That couldn’t be doing much for him other than wasting his time, and maybe giving him a handful of moments of entertainment.

Keith took a deep breath, setting the glass on the table before sitting down next to Shiro. He liked time with Shiro, but if he needed to…

“If—if all your stuff, if it’s too much…we can stop our lessons for now?” he suggested tentatively. “I mean, I’m really grateful for them. You’re a—you’re really good at what you do, and the teaching. But if you’re too stressed I don’t want to—”

Keith was stunned into silence when Shiro raised a hand and pressed a finger to Keith’s lips. “Nope, I’m going to stop you right there.”

Keith stopped talking. Keith stopped thinking. Both of those things were beyond him when Shiro’s skin was a hair’s breadth from his own, his face so close that Keith could concentrate on little else.

Then Shiro drew back, smiling a little sheepishly as he rubbed at the back of his neck. “Ah, sorry if that was a bit forward.” He grimaced. “Point is, I—I like hanging out with you. It’s my way of relaxing. If you’re busy or you don’t want to, that’s fine, just…don’t feel like you need to stop for me. I—I like it.”

Keith blinked, still unsure what had just happened. “I—are you sure?” The last thing he wanted was for Shiro to feel obligated.

But there was no guile or deception in Shiro’s eyes when he smiled softly, and nodded. “I’m sure,” he said firmly. “Anyway,” he continued brightly, “it’s fun to watch you fumble around like a baby bird.”

Keith scowled, shoving Shiro lightly. “Take your medicine.”

Despite the sharpness of his words, his heart felt lighter than it had all day. Shiro’s laughter filled the room, bringing light and life to the empty kitchen, and to Keith’s heart.

* * *

This experience was entirely new to Shiro, and he felt giddy with it.

Not touring. No, although his job was great and did amaze him daily, it didn’t bring this particular thrill. The euphoria of being on stage was wild, frantic, a buzz that whited out all his senses so there was nothing but the present and himself.

This though. This steadied him. Calmed him. Made him hyper aware of someone else outside of him, for once, and had his singular focus on the stunning individual before him. It made his heart skip and his stomach flutter and—as was often the case these days—centred around Keith.

Was it stupid to be proud? Was it a little ridiculous to be so enamoured by the efforts and hard work of someone he’d known for a few months? Maybe. Maybe. But, Shiro reasoned, it made him happy. These were good feelings—the tickle of pride in his heart, the fondness that warmed his soul—and if it was silly, well, he would live.

“You’ve improved a lot,” he said softly, when Keith let the final chords ring out, his voice fading away to nothing. “Really. You have.”

Keith looked over at him, his hair gathered into a little ponytail. He smiled, a gentle lifting of the corners of his mouth that sent Shiro’s pulse scattering. “Really? I—thanks.” He ducked his head to stare at the keyboard, looking pleased with himself, and Shiro wanted to hug him. “Thanks for teaching me.”

“You’re welcome.” If teaching Keith meant that he directed _that_ gorgeous smile Shiro’s way more often, then Shiro would seriously consider a career change. “Say, Keith, do you wanna muck around on some of the other instruments?”

Keith looked surprised. “Hrm?”

“Well, I was just thinking…” Shiro stood, removing a guitar from one of the racks that lined the walls of the rehearsal room with which he’d become so familiar. He carried it back to Keith, presenting it with a grin. “You wanna try it out?”

Keith looked a little uncertain. “I mean, I’m not exactly a genius with the piano.”

“No, but you’ve been learning really quick, so I think you’d be good at this too.” Shiro smiled. “C’mon, it’ll be a bit of fun.”

When Keith still looked a little reluctant, Shiro was prepared to let it go. But then Keith smiled slowly, swivelling around on his seat so that his back was to the keyboard. “All right, then. Give it here.” He made a grabbing motion, and Shiro handed the guitar over gladly.

Instrument in hand, Keith more or less approximated the correct position, probably simply from observance. “Like this?”

Shiro smiled, sitting on the piano seat next to him. The surface wasn’t a large one, their knees bumping gently. “Pretty much. So you’ll fret with you left hand—” Shiro gestured at the fret board, where Keith’s fingers would go “—and your right will be used for strumming.”

“Right.” Keith stroked his fingers across the strings tentatively, making a jumble of notes ring out in an atonal mishmash.

“That’s it. ‘Cause we do pop music, I’m just gonna teach you the basic chords again, like we did with the keyboard.” Shiro shifted forward, leaning his elbows on his knees so he could peer at where Keith’s fingers hovered over the fret board. “So, G is probably the easiest one to start with. If you just—I think your index…”

Shiro frowned. He sat up straight, position an imaginary guitar in his hands. “Yep, so with your second fingers, just under the…” Which was it? Frowning deeper, he tried to remember for a moment—glancing between his fingers and Keith’s guitar—before he gave up.

“Is this how your concerts usually go?” Keith asked, smiling crookedly.

Shiro huffed. “ _No_.” It was just hard to envisage without a guitar in his hand. The best way to show would be to be playing with Keith, but…

He hesitated for a moment, unsure. But there was only one way to know right? “Ah, you mind if I just get behind you for a moment, and a little closer? It’ll help with the positioning. I’m mostly muscle memory by now,” he said with a laugh. “So I’m gonna need to figure it out with you.” He conveniently forgot about the fact that there were racks full of other guitars right behind him that he could use for demonstration. This was a far better idea.

Keith looked surprised for a moment, before relaxing. “Er, yeah, sure.”

Shiro grinned. “Brilliant,” he said, trying to sound casual even as his heart skipped a beat. Or several.

He shuffled over on the seat so he was pressed up against Keith’s side, adjusting the guitar so it sat more comfortably in Keith’s lap. Tentatively—just in case it was too much, too forward—he looped his arm behind Keith, reaching around him to place his fingers over the fret board.

It wasn’t the most comfortable of positions, but it did the trick, and his fingers fell into the familiar pattern. The way that Keith was pressed against him, his chest to Keith’s back, was less familiar, and it made his heart flutter.

“Got it,” he said, voice a little hoarse. “If you just put your fingers where mine are…”

Keith didn’t move. For a moment, the two of them remained still, suspended with Shiro’s arm wrapped gently around Keith and Shiro could’ve sworn Keith’s breath shuddered.

But then Keith raised his arm, moving his fingers to cover Shiro’s own. His hands were a touch on the cold side, but not shockingly so, and Shiro enjoyed the brief feeling of Keith’s hand laid over his.

“So just press down where your fingers are?” Keith asked quietly.

“Mhm.” Shiro dropped his hand reluctantly once he was satisfied that Keith had the position correct. But he didn’t move away yet; he’d need to show Keith the rest of the chords, so he simply placed his hand on the seat, leaning on it as he watched Keith position his fingers. “So that’s your G chord. The first one that _Blackout_ starts on.”

“Yeah, I remember that,” Keith murmured absentmindedly, strumming gently, the sounds now more consonant than what he’d played before.

Shiro smiled. “There you go.”

“D comes next right?”

“Yep,” Shiro said, feeling that tickle of pride again that Keith remembered things so well. “Let me just…” He moved again so that he could demonstrate the position before Keith took over.

 

“Yeah, like that.” And it was always something special, watching Keith’s gentle smile form when he managed to get a new chord. It wasn’t the bright laughter or the sly grins that Shiro saw on other occasions, but something a little warmer, a little simpler. Keith always looked so _pleased_ with himself, as though he never quite expected the music to work for him. His smile when he realised that it _did_ —that _he_ was the one who had brought the sound into the world, who had created something—always kindled gentle warmth in Shiro’s heart.

The song came together in fragments again, like it had the first time round when Shiro had taught it to Keith on piano. Time passed as Shiro showed Keith the next chord, then the next, correcting him patiently when he forgot how to place this finger or that one, their voices mingling as they sang softly.

It always took Shiro’s breath away to hear Keith sing, and tonight was no exception. The purity in his tone, the familiar rasp over some of the lower notes, it blew Shiro away.

“I’ve said this before, but you have a gorgeous voice,” he said when they paused. “Seriously. It’s beautiful.”

Keith smiled, looking down and fiddling tunelessly with the strings of the guitar. “You keep saying that.”

“‘Cause I mean it. You do.”

“You can’t really talk; you lead Voltron.”

“Think that makes me even more qualified to talk,” Shiro said smugly.

Keith lifted his head, apparently for the sole purpose of making sure that Shiro could see him roll his eyes. “You know what I mean.”

Shiro laughed lightly. “Yeah, I do. Still, I mean what I said. You sing beautifully.”

“You know you’re the only one who says that.”

“That’s ‘cause you never sing around anyone else!” Shiro protested. “Look, come sing for the rest of the band. I guarantee they’ll think the same.” Keith snorted, and Shiro frowned. “I’m serious. Come sing for them.”

“What, just show up and be like, ‘Hey, Voltron, I’m some random roadie of yours, wanna hear me sing?’”

The disbelief in Keith’s voice—a disbelief that almost tended towards bitterness—had something uncomfortable twisting in Shiro’s gut. “Keith, they’re nice people. And you’re my friend. They wouldn’t laugh at you just because you’re not some sort of celebrity.”

At that, Keith looked a little mollified. “I—I didn’t mean it like that. I’m sorry. I’m not saying your friends are bad people or anything, I promise.”

Shiro shook his head, now not liking the panicked expression that crossed Keith’s face as he shrank away a little. “No, it’s okay. I just want to make sure you know that they’re not like that.” He smiled, and Keith seemed to relax a little. “I know that there are people like that,” Shiro said slowly. “But…that’s not them.”

Keith looked away for a moment. “Yeah, there are…” He sighed, but when he looked to Shiro again, he was smiling once more. “I know they’re nice. I haven’t talked to any of them a lot, but they’ve all been nice to me when I have.”

“There you go then. So what do you say?”

Keith still looked a bit nervous, but he smiled tentatively. “I say yes.”

“That’s great!” Shiro grinned, his heart doing giddy twirls at Keith’s agreement. “We’ll—we’ll find a time soon, and then we can figure it out.”

“Yeah, sounds good,” Keith said softly. Then the smile fell from his face. “And, um, I _am_ sorry about what I said about your friends.”

Shiro frowned. “Keith, seriously, it’s all right. I wasn’t offended.” When Keith still didn’t look convinced, Shiro watched him worriedly. How did he make Keith understand how much he meant to him? “You know I’m your friend, right?” he asked slowly. “I don’t know if that wasn’t incredibly obvious by now, but I do like hanging out with you. I’m not criticising or anything,” Shiro added hastily. “Just sometimes you seem a bit…nervous around me. And I promise you don’t have to be.” He smiled gently. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I love that you care so much. You’re a really nice person. But you don’t have to stress out about me, okay?”

Keith looked at him for a long while. It made Shiro himself nervous, but at the same time, he’d been around Keith for long enough to know that sometimes, Keith took another moment or two to process and think things through. He was impulsive in some ways—like impromptu pharmaceutical trips—but Shiro often found that Keith did this in response to something Shiro said: study him for a long moment, before replying.

And sure enough, eventually the tension in Keith’s shoulders drained away, and the familiar smile was back. “I know, Shiro. I’m really grateful. I guess I just…” He shrugged, a non-committal raising and lowering of one shoulder. “I haven’t really had many—I’m not really used to people,” he amended. “People coming into the studio, they kinda come and go, you know? So yeah, it just takes a bit of getting used to.”

“Take your time,” Shiro said. “I’m not saying it to pressure you or anything. I don’t expect you to want to hang out all the time or whatever. Just if I say you can come along to something, I do mean it.”

“I know. I do.” Keith smiled, and he shoved Shiro lightly on the arm. “Look at you, getting all serious on me.”

“Hey!” Shiro couldn’t help laughing, despite the sudden change in tone. “I was having a moment.”

Although he would gladly give it up if it meant that Keith could keep grinning like that, open and delighted. “Yeah. And I appreciate it.” Keith looked up at Shiro. And it might have been Shiro’s imagination, but there was a certain fondness to the soft tilt of his smile. “I do. And I’m looking forward to singing with your friends.”

“Me too.”

Except then he remembered that last time—or _any_ time—he brought up Keith around them, Hunk made kissy faces, Allura grinned like a shark with its prey, and Lance and Pidge complained that Shiro was being gross. _Loudly_.

“Shiro? You okay?” Keith’s face was concerned as he looked at Shiro.

“Yeah,” Shiro said, smiling nervously. Keith hanging out with the people Shiro loved the most in the world, all in one room? It would be a good time. “Yeah,” he repeated, and his smile softened. “It’s gonna be great.”

If he didn’t die of embarrassment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ARE THE GUITAR BOYS NOT GORGEOUS.


	8. Chapter 8

God, they made so much _noise_.

Keith stood poised outside a rehearsal room, staring at the door. From what he could tell they weren’t even making music, just a _lot_ of noise. He could hear Shiro yelling (even if he couldn’t make out the words), what he recognised as Allura’s chatter, and cackling from what must’ve been Lance.

Then there was a huge crash, and all conversation stopped as they all groaned collectively. “ _Shiro_.”

“It was an accident!” Keith heard Shiro’s protest, slightly muffled through the door. “I’ll pick them up.”

“Just like you’re gonna pick your boyfriend up,” Pidge said, snickering, and Keith frowned. He didn’t realise Shiro had a boyfriend. It wasn’t like it was any of his business either way, but he thought that they spent enough time around each other for Keith to have realised by now if it was the case.

“He’s not my _boyfriend_.” Or maybe it wasn’t.

“Matter of time,” Lance said, sounding very pleased with himself. “All you have to do is keep batting your eyes at him—”

“As well as that adorable blush you do when he enters the room, Shiro,” Allura added.

“—and the blushing,” Lance agreed. “You’ll get the boy in no time. Just keep going with your usual charm.” It sounded like it was someone _on_ the ship, from the way they were talking. And Keith felt something twist uncomfortably in his stomach again at the thought that it was someone who he walked past every day who had caught Shiro’s eye.

None of his business. None of his business who Shiro liked, even if Keith was attracted. He had no claim over the man, and it wasn’t like he’d had any chance at all of getting him, _ever_.

Inside the room, Shiro continued protesting. “It’s not—we’re just—”

“Maybe if you help out with the cooking a few more times you can woo him with your domesticity, Shiro,” Pidge said. “We all know how good a cook you are.”

That produced more laughter, a honking noise that Keith recognised as belonging to Hunk, and more spluttering from Shiro.

Well, that seemed like a more or less appropriate lull in the conversation where Keith could enter. So he took a deep breath, knocked firmly (ignoring the various questioning noises that came from inside the room), and peeked his head around the door when he eased it open.

He was greeted by the sight of Shiro, bent over and reaching for a music stand which must have toppled onto the floor. The culprit behind the huge crash he had heard earlier, Keith realised.

Shiro’s face lit up instantly when he saw who his visitor was. “Keith! You made it.”

“Keith, huh?” Lance strode up to him, and got uncomfortably close to his face.

Despite his discomfort, Keith didn’t back down. “That's me. Um, nice to meet you.”

Lance grinned slowly, clapping him on the back. “Nice of Shiro to finally share you with us,” he said. “We’ve been waiting to see who his cr—”

“Yes, you’ve said this all before,” Shiro said hastily. “Anyway, it’s not like I was keeping him from you. You’re the only one who he hasn’t talked to before.”

Lance seemed to deflate. “Wait, you all had a new friend and you didn’t tell me?”

“I keep to myself quite a bit,” Keith said, because Lance did look very disappointed. “But it’s…still nice to meet you?” He glanced at Shiro for help, but none was forthcoming; he looked like he was trying to stifle a laugh.

“Lance, you know it’s impossible to flirt with everyone, and when that’s your main way of communicating, you’re gonna miss out on some people,” Hunk pointed out.

“Hey, I knew that Shiro wanted—”

“So I asked Keith to come along today,” Shiro said, interrupting Lance yet again. Keith wondered if it was something that happened a lot, and going by the fact that Lance pouted but stayed quiet, it probably was. “As some of you already know, some being more observant than others—”

“Hey!”

“—I’ve had the pleasure of teaching Keith piano and guitar recently.” Shiro smiled his way, and Keith ducked his head. He didn’t know what was making his heart beat double time—the fact that Shiro had just sent him the softest smile, or how he felt like he was being introduced on his first day of high school. Probably both. It didn’t help that this particular scenario felt like a high school for ridiculously gifted musicians, which Keith was not.

“That’s rather nice of you,” Allura said, and there was something teasing in her voice again, the same tone that Keith had heard when she’d asked him why he was looking for Shiro when he’d missed a meal.

Like Keith had during that conversation with Allura, Shiro looked a little embarrassed. “Keith’s got a really nice voice, all right? That's why I asked him to come along today; I think it’d be fun to jam with someone else, someone who I think would gel. It’s been a while since we’ve had time to hang out with anyone new.”

“Don’t you guys have support acts all the time?” Keith asked, confused.

“Yeah, but we usually know them,” Pidge said, piping up. “It’s fun, but it’s rare that there’s anyone we trust enough to hold their own who we haven’t really worked with before.”

Oh. They trusted him to hold his own, then? “Right,” Keith said weakly. Being trusted to be musically proficient sounded like an awful lot coming from one of the hottest bands of the decade, especially when Keith’s musical experience was hefting equipment, and Shiro’s ongoing lessons.

“Wait, wait.” Lance crossed his arms, leaning against the wall. “How do we know that we’ll vibe? I mean, you’re right Pidge—I don’t like playing with people I don’t know. No offence, man.”

Keith tried not to let it get to him. He _knew_ that this had been a mistake. “None taken.”

Now Shiro was frowning, too. “Well, I’ve been teaching him and I know what Keith can do,” he said slowly. “I would’ve thought that that would be enough. And what harm can it do?”

“Well, it could just be a waste of time,” Lance continued. “And ‘sides, it’s not like we’re not complete right now.”

“Lance, that wasn’t what Shiro meant, and you know that,” Allura said. “He just wants to try something new out, and isn't that what we’re all about?”

The addition of Pidge’s voice (“Get your head out of your ass already.”) only increased Keith’s rising anxiety. When Shiro had suggested it, he’d already hesitated, thinking that playing with a group of strangers who he didn’t know and who didn’t want him could only end badly. Shiro had reassured him, but it looked like Shiro was wrong this time.

“Ah, I should—I should go, then,” Keith said quickly, backing away. “I don’t want to interrupt you guys or—”

“No, stay,” Shiro said firmly, and he glanced at Lance, brow furrowed slightly. “I wouldn’t have invited you if I didn’t think this would be a good thing to do.” Although the words were reassuring to Keith, they also seemed to be directed at Lance. A warning of sorts, and Keith really didn’t like being the source of conflict between Shiro and his band mates.

“No, I really can go,” Keith insisted. “I don't want to disturb—”

“Stay,” Lance said, quietly. Then he sighed, before smiling wryly. “Sorry, man. I can't sing for peanuts, so chalk it up to jealousy.”

Keith paused, halfway out the door.

“I know Shiro’s hard to impress,” Lance continued. “And not just with music. So if you caught his eye…well, you must be something. C’mon, let’s see what we can do.”

Still, Keith hesitated. “You—you guys are sure?”

For an answer, Hunk placed a hand on the small of his back, and pushed him—with surprising force—back into the room. “Yeah, they’re sure,” he said. “Lance just needs a moment usually. Sorry man.”

“Agreed,” Allura said. “As Lance said, let us see what we can do.” When she smiled, Keith felt some of his tension melt away.

“Okay. Let’s do that.”

Pidge let out a woop, before heading over to her drum kit. The others also scattered to pick up their guitars, except for Shiro, who turned to Keith with an extremely pleased expression on his face. “This is gonna be great,” he said, and Keith couldn’t help but smile back.

“Yeah. How are we gonna do this? What do you want me to do?”

“Mm, I don’t want to throw you straight into playing with the rest of them quite yet, if you don’t want,” Shiro said. “You wanna just sit down and listen for a bit? If at any point you want to jump in, feel free.”

“Okay…” It still didn’t quite feel like he was meant to be here, but Keith tried to ignore the feeling as he looked around for somewhere to sit down.

His discomfort was little easier to ignore when Shiro’s hand briefly touched his shoulder, resting there for a moment. “You can just sit with Hunk,” he said, nudging Keith over gently to where Hunk was seated with a camera. Hunk gave him a beaming smile, and patted the seat next to him.

“All right.”

Shiro’s hand remained a moment longer, before he squeezed Keith’s shoulder and let go. Keith fought not to smile, ducking his head as he sat down.

It was interesting to watch them work together. Obviously he’d seen them on stage, but with the bright lights and the professional polish of a performance, it was easy to forget that these were human beings and not freakish music-making robots. Instead of the usual polish and relentless drive that they had on stage, when Pidge fluffed one of her parts, she huffed out a breath and started juggling her sticks, making the others—including Keith—laugh. They stopped and started when this line didn’t quite fit or that entrance hadn’t been quite accurate, and other times they plodded along heedless of mistakes, just wanting to play.

It made Keith think that, wild though the idea was, he might fit in better then he thought.

So when they hit the chorus of _Red Stone Vase_ , Keith sat forward on his chair a little, and started singing.

The band took it in their stride, simply grinning his way, with Pidge letting out a loud whooping noise. Well, most of the band—Shiro stuttered for a moment when he heard Keith’s voice, glancing over from where he’d been standing with his mic, before he too grinned from ear to ear and kept singing.

“And I’ll be rid of your temper, rid of my fear, rid of this sickness that’s haunted my heart.” The melody was slow but gritty, and Keith had always liked the way it dipped right into the lower parts of his voice. He’d always loved it, and now he got to enjoy the way his breathier tones floated over the top of Shiro’s deep bass as well.

“I’ll be free, I’ll be free, I’ll be free at last, put them out on the porch step with your red stone vase.”

Shiro was smiling wildly, and when Lance started getting into his solo, Shiro stepped away from his mic to approach Keith. “Come sing with me,” he said, sounding slightly breathless, and offering a hand. “C’mon, you’ll hear yourself better if you share the mic.”

Keith hesitated for a moment, looking at Shiro’s open hand, and the invitation in the smile on his face. Then he relaxed. After all, wasn’t he here to just have a bit of fun, to relax a little? He so rarely hung out with anyone his age back on Earth, and Shiro’s smile didn’t seem like a choice he could ever regret. Rolo had been right, that first night; Sendak wasn’t out here to tell him what to do. What might’ve upset his boss back on Earth seemed so distant now. Surely Keith could live a little?

So he placed his hand in Shiro’s open palm, and let himself be hauled up to the microphone.

They stood side by side, waiting for Lance to climb the final part of his run, and Keith couldn’t help but smile when he looked up at Shiro. Shiro looked so incredibly happy like this, with none of the weariness that had haunted him the other night when his arm had caused him trouble, or the fatigue and shadows that Keith occasionally saw after one too many shows. Here, Shiro just looked relaxed, and having his steady warmth next to Keith was like coming into safe harbour.

Admittedly, it did sound better once Keith could actually hear himself properly over the others’ amplified sounds. But there was also some magic in simply being _closer_. Closer to the others, the guitar and drums washing over him until he could feel it in his very soul. And closer to Shiro, the two of them leaning close to the mic, shoulder to shoulder, their hands brushing gently against each other.

As they sang the final lines, Keith let himself lean against Shiro, just slightly. It meant nothing to Shiro, and Keith could play it off as nothing. But being able to feel Shiro so close helped remind him that this wasn’t just a dream.

Allura hadn’t even finished her final couple of notes before Lance and Pidge were already clapping, Shiro slapping Keith heartily on the back as the others cheered.

“You really do have a lovely voice,” Allura offered, eyes twinkling. “I can see why Shiro was so enamoured.”

“You killed it, Keith! That rocked!”

Lance looked a lot happier than he had earlier. “Yeah, that was cool, man.”

“And I caught it all on camera, too,” Hunk said proudly. “A good moment, man. A good one.”

Keith couldn’t help the smile that lit his face. “Uh, thanks.” Shiro’s hand was still warm on his back, now rubbing circles.

“Didn’t I tell you guys? He’s a natural at it.” Shiro’s smile and praise made Keith’s heart beat faster than anything the others had said combined. “Wanna try _Blackout_ now? You like that one.”

Keith nodded, still a little shy, but eager now that he’d tasted what it felt like to belong. “Yeah, sure.”

Shiro nodded at the keyboard against the wall. “You wanna take the keyboard?”

Keith frowned. “I can’t play that fast though…”

But Shiro shook his head. “We can take it slow. Like a ballad version, the way we usually play it.” He smiled, nudging Keith towards the instrument. “It’s all right, the others will figure it out.”

Keith glanced around, still unsure, but he didn’t see anything from the others but encouraging smiles. “All right...” He sat down at the keyboard, adjusting his seat, perhaps a little more than necessary. “I’ve gotta tell you though, Shiro’s been exaggerating how good I am. Like, by a lot.”

“I’m sure that isn’t the case,” Allura said gently. “But rest assured, no one’s laughing at you. As you’ll have seen, we all make plenty of mistakes.”

He had seen. And that was encouraging.

Keith stared at the keys. He knew where he was meant to place his hands, but he didn’t know _how_. It seemed ridiculous, but he wasn’t sure at all what was expected. Was he meant to play as though this were a concert? Was it meant to be a performance? Would he be taking away from their rehearsal time if he didn’t take this seriously?

A scrape of a chair drew his attention away from the keyboard, and he looked up to see Shiro sitting next to him.

“Just take your time,” Shiro said softly. “No one’s judging here, we’re just here to have some fun. You can play it just like you do for me.”

Hearing the voice that had coached him patiently through every mistake, every fumble, calm and encouraging, helped settle some of the nerves. Although having Shiro close also made his skin feel like it was fizzling with electricity, Keith found that he could smile back at Shiro, take a deep breath, and play his first chord.

He managed to fumble his way through the intro, his fingers still a little unsteady with nerves. But then he started singing, and his heart settled. Settled into the words, speaking of a love that was bright and warm. Settled into the way that the melody shifted and changed, telling a tale of growing and learning.

“I see you standing right there with me, baby, in the glow of the wild fire.”

And at that line, Keith _always_ saw Shiro in his mind. Shiro with his gentle expressions and his patience, Shiro curious but not overbearing. Shiro who kept looking at Keith with such fondness, as though Keith was a _friend_ , and someone to be cherished.

Shiro who meant more to Keith than he was willing to admit.

Shiro, who’s voice joined with Keith on the next line, a soaring harmony above him.

“I see you standing right there with me, darlin’, when the fate of the world is dire.”

Keith fumbled slightly on the next chord, but then Lance came in with a gentle bass line, mellow and full, and it grounded him again. He glanced up to grin at Lance, and he winked back.

Keith and Shiro took the chorus together, and it was so different from how _Blackout_ was usually played; slow where it should have been driving, melancholy where it was usually triumphant. But it felt right, in a cluttered room, the six of them together and Shiro by his side.

They took the journey together, Allura picking her way calmly through some embellishments on her guitar, and Pidge keeping her beat soft, yet still moving. When they fizzled away, Keith’s voice laying under Shiro’s on the final note, he knew he would never forget this.

Judging by the almost reverent silence that followed, he didn’t think the others would either. The usual niggling nervousness in the back of his mind didn’t even have time to rear its ugly head, because the soft smiles that they were all sending him was enough to tell him that they’d done something memorable. Nothing said so more than the look of pride on Shiro’s face.

The moment was broken with a loud sniff. “That was _beautiful_ ,” Hunk said, lowering his camera and dabbing at his eyes. “Man, that was—I’ve never heard you guys do it like that.”

“Pidge likes whacking things too much,” Shiro said absently, his eyes still on Keith.

“Shiro, _you’re_ the one who was always complaining that it never sounded right that slow.” Keith could almost hear the eye roll from her voice alone.

“Guess I never found the right inspiration for it.” Shiro still had that same, distant quality to his voice, and he was looking at Keith with such happiness that Keith had to look away. It felt like too much, to be on the receiving end of something that pure.

“So are you saying that Keith’s your inspiration?” Allura asked cheekily.

Keith looked up at her, gaping. That sounded _way_ too serious. “Allura, what—”

Shiro laughed, and he touched Keith on the shoulder briefly. “Maybe he is.”

Now Keith turned his distress to Shiro. “Shiro, come on.”

“What? It’s true. These guys can tell you that I’m writing a whole lot more now that I’ve got you—or well, your lessons to focus on,” he said, rushing the last words. “It gives me a way to concentrate.”

“That’s one way to put it,” Lance muttered, and Hunk snickered.

Keith ignored them, frowning at Shiro. “A bit far to say I’m _inspiring_ you, isn’t it?”

Now it was Shiro’s turn to frown. “I don’t think so at—”

“Shiro,” Pidge interrupted. “Show him what you’ve been working on.”

Shiro looked up at her with surprise. “What I’ve been working on?”

There came that eye roll again. “I’ve heard you playing it. We all have. C’mon, let’s see what it is.”

Keith looked between the two of them, curious. Pidge looked determined—if slightly mischievous—and Shiro looked…nervous, of all things. Keith wondered what could possibly have that kind of effect on someone who took to the stage in front of thousands night after night.

“I…” Shiro swallowed. “Only if Keith wants to hear it.”

“Are you kidding?” Keith grinned, nudging Shiro lightly. “Of course I do. You know I like hearing you sing too.” And he was curious to know how this was meant to make him accept the whole “inspiration” thing any easier.

“All right then.” Shiro stood slowly, and then he went to grab his guitar from where it had been perched on a stand. It was the one Keith had unpacked at their very first show, the worn instrument that Shiro’s dad had given him. Shiro swung it around his shoulders, plucking a few chords, before clearing his throat. Then he stared down at his hands for a moment. Keith wondered what he was thinking about.

Shiro looked up, right at Keith. And he started to sing.

Despite his time on the tour, Keith had never heard Shiro sing alone before. He’d never heard him sing without the rest of the band, let along without microphones or effects, stripped bare to nothing but his and his fingers gentle across the strings of his guitar.

Shiro’s eyes stayed on Keith’s, and he sang. He sang of mountains rising and falling, of citadels crumbling until nothing was left. He sang of heartache and heartbreak, of rising, and losing, and crawling to your feet to start again. Then he sang of a love, slow and strong, and Shiro’s gaze held his as he sang of being found and loving a lifetime, and Keith couldn’t have looked away if he’d wanted to.

And when Shiro’s voice finally wavered to nothing, his feelings laid bare, Keith was struck by the realisation that maybe, terrifyingly, the words had been for him all along.

* * *

It was late, late at night, when Keith’s tablet vibrated.

He blinked, groaning lightly as he squinted at the uncomfortable brightness that radiated from the device. It took his eyes a moment to adjust, but when he saw the name, his heart clenched.

He turned around quickly, facing the wall, and huddling deeper inside his blankets. The noise persisted, but if he just ignored it…

The buzzing stopped.

In the silence that followed, Keith’s heart didn’t stop pounding. The caller wasn’t so easily shaken off by Keith ignoring messages, Keith knew. There would be another message to follow, and—

Sure enough, the tablet buzzed once more. “You have one, new video message,” it intoned.

Keith stared at the dark expanse of the wall, the faint illumination from his tablet eventually fading away to leave pure blackness instead. He could go back to sleep. The message would still be there in the morning; it wouldn’t change for him if he checked it now, and the contents would probably make it harder for him to sleep anyway.

He closed his eyes. He could ignore it for a while longer.

Except twenty minutes later, he sat up, frustrated and weary. He could ignore it. Or at least, a _normal_ person could. But not Keith, who drove himself mad with worry and obsession over the stupidest things.

And this was stupid. He knew that, even as he picked up his tablet to squint at it. Who cared what was happening back on Earth? He’d been hired for this job, and he was doing a good one. He didn’t need to be back for—

“You have three months.” A familiar voice slithered into the quiet of his room, and Keith felt sick.

Sendak’s face filled the screen, and he looked _livid_. “I know what you’re doing, boy. One trip away from Earth, and you’re already getting cocky? I made myself clear when you left that you’re to return my messages and my calls; I need information to get _you_ work, difficult as you make it.”

Keith dropped his tablet on the bed, scooting backwards and hugging his knees as Sendak continued. He had known. He had known that Sendak would be mad if Keith ignored him, but the sick dread that filled him every time he’d gotten a message had been a lot easier to forget, light years away, with people surrounding him. People who seemed to actually _like_ him. It had been easier to ignore, but Keith should’ve known. He should’ve known.

“I saw the video.” There was only one video that he could mean: the one that Shiro had uploaded to Voltron’s fan page weeks ago, Keith singing _Blackout_ with the band. The one that Shiro had been so happy about, and had told Keith he’d treasure forever. He had been so _excited_ to share the music with the world, and Keith hadn’t known how to say no, even as he’d felt the dread crawl in his gut.

“I hope you realise that it will _not_ be permanent,” Sendak’s voice continued. “It was obviously a publicity stunt.” Sendak sighed, now seeming more exasperated than angry. In some ways, it was worse. “Don’t be foolish and think it was anything more than that. I need to plan your schedule. Return my calls.”

The recording clicked off. His tablet started listing out options for him to return the call, but Keith was frozen, staring at his bed sheets.

Stupid to think this could last.

Stupid to have ignored Sendak for so long, _knowing_ that he’d be mad.

Yet still…Keith didn’t want to leave. For the first time, he was _happy_ with what he was doing. It wasn’t as though working at Sendak’s studio his whole life had been a bad existence. He’d always had Nyma and Rolo to hang out with, and they complained about their work and looked out for Keith as best they could. Keith counted them as friends, so life wasn’t horrible back home.

But he’d never felt more alive than out here. Here, there was life and excitement about what they were all doing together. Thace’s gentle steadiness backstage made the work feel worthwhile, and helping Hunk pack away dishes while he chattered away about this alien food or that planet’s dish was one of Keith’s favourite past times.

Another one was time spent with Shiro. _Any_ time spent with him, whether it was their lessons together, or watching the stars from the observatory, or wandering down to a chemist on an alien planet.

Keith didn’t want to go home and throw all of that away.

But Sendak needed him back, and Keith knew that it was never a good idea to make Sendak mad. Especially when Keith relied on him for work, although Keith couldn’t imagine Coran—or any of Voltron—saying no if he said he wanted to stay on for the rest of the tour even if his contract was up. They did talk as though he’d be here for the full thing, so maybe if he asked…

Though it wasn’t a good idea at all, to have Sendak’s wrath waiting for him back on Earth. But he didn’t want to give this up. Selfishly, he didn’t want to give Shiro up. This would all end once the tour ended. They’d go back to Earth, live their separate lives with Keith forever working in a studio fetching coffees and lifting boxes, and Shiro flying Voltron up beyond the stars. If it was to end anyway, Keith wanted to live it for as long as possible.

He was running out of choices.

Keith buried his face against his knees, and tried his best to ignore the churning in his stomach that told him that none of this could ever last.

 

_To hear these options again, press 7_.

* * *

 

**To: Sendak**

_Got your message the other day. Sorry I haven’t had time to call. And thanks for the offer, but I have work. Voltron want me to stay on until the end of the tour, which is another four months. I’ll be back on Earth for the final leg anyway, so we can talk then, if you’ve got time._

_I promise I’ll be back soon. Thanks for calling._


	9. Chapter 9

Shiro was…kind of bored.

They’d had almost two weeks off now, by his count. Yes, he was tired from touring, and yes he needed a break, but not in the middle of everything when he’d been expecting to be performing. But some poorly-timed magnetic field situation—apparently a once in a lifetime occurrence for that particular planet—had led to significant power outages right when Voltron had been scheduled to play. That had knocked over a week of shows out of their schedule, and with almost another week of transit time scheduled after that, well…

It meant that Shiro was getting extremely restless.

They’d found safe harbour on a planet in a more remote part of the universe; there weren’t many places that would take almost a hundred people on short notice, so they’d been lucky to end up anywhere.

“An old Galra colony,” Allura had explained when they’d gone exploring the other day. Her intergalactic relations studies in university meant she had knowledge of the most obscure places. “Although now the population is a mix of many different alien species.

Thace had nodded his head sagely, although Shiro hadn’t been sure what there had been to be sage about. “Much of the architecture still remains,” he’d said, pointing out the buildings around them.

Keith had been frowning, following the group quietly. When he had caught Shiro’s eye, he’d smiled but his expression had still been a little distant. “I think I remember…”

Lying in bed, Shiro realised he’d never ended up hearing what Keith had remembered that day, because at that moment Pidge had let out an enormous screeching sound and dashed off, distracting him.

It would be fun to do some more exploring. Though the city wasn’t huge, it did have some spectacular views, and some parks that they hadn’t gotten around to looking at the other day. He knew the others were busy though; Lance had taken Allura shopping, returning to a strip of jewellery shops that they’d spotted previously but had run out of time to browse.

But maybe Keith was free.

Hopping out of his bed, Shiro stomped into his sneakers with renewed vigour, now that he had a purpose. He didn’t mind heading out by himself, but Coran always got awfully worried when they did so in new environments, and Shiro didn’t want to upset him.

Besides, it wasn’t like Shiro didn’t jump at any chance to see Keith now.

He made his way quickly to Keith’s room, the route familiar by now. It would be fun to hang out, just the two of them. They hadn’t really been alone since Keith rehearsed with the band. He was certainly seeing more and more of him, Keith now seeming more comfortable with joining their group for the occasional meal time or outing, but Shiro enjoyed their time alone too. He’d missed that over the past month or so.

They’d only had one occasion to since Keith had rehearsed with the band, another guitar lesson that they’d managed to fit in amongst all their free time in the past week. A lesson in which Keith had pressed up particularly close to Shiro as they sang—a closeness Keith never seemed to entertain when they were with others—looking over at him with such unguarded joy as they made their music together.

Yes, Shiro thought, feeling his ears heat up. He really did enjoy their time alone.

Heart skipping happily, Shiro approached Keith’s door and knocked, hopeful.

Silence.

Shiro knocked again tentatively, but when there was still no response, he gave up with a sigh. The Castle was too big for Shiro to go hunting around for Keith, so Shiro would just have to—

“Shiro?”

Shiro smiled immediately at that voice, before turning to find Keith standing behind him, peeking around the corner of the hallway.

“Hey! How are you going?”

“Uh, I’m good.” Keith smiled, but his gaze flickered to Shiro’s before dropping away very quickly. “What’re you up to?”

“Was just looking for you.” Shiro approached slowly, so he didn’t alarm Keith any more than he seemed to have done already. “Heading out?”

“Yeah.” Short. Curt. Nothing more.

And maybe with anyone else, Shiro would have left it to be nothing more. But with Keith...well, he didn’t seem to be very good at leaving Keith alone. He hoped that he wasn’t coming on too strong but he was invested, now.

In what, he couldn’t exactly say. All he knew what that Keith sometimes seemed a little far away even when he was surrounded by people, and had a gentleness to him that he didn’t seem to see. One that Shiro wanted to help him see, if he could be so lucky.

“Did you want company?” He tried to keep the hopefulness from leaning too much into desperation, and smiled in what he hoped was a friendly (and not creepy crush) manner.

Keith looked surprised. “What?”

“I’d love to hang out, if you wanted. I was actually looking for you to see if you were around.”

“You...want to hang out with me? On some random planet? On one of your only days off?”

“Er, I guess?” Shiro laughed. “I don’t mind if it’s you. I like hanging out with you.”

“You...like hanging out with me?”

Shiro nodded hopefully, watching Keith carefully. “Yeah. I do.”

Still, Keith said nothing, looking at Shiro like he was something strange that he didn’t quite understand. As the seconds ticked by, Shiro felt embarrassment crawl in his stomach.

“Ah, only if you want to, of course! I mean, I know I need to be alone sometimes, to just recharge. So if _you_ didn’t want to spend your day off with me tagging along, then I—”

“I’d like you,” Keith said softly. “I mean, um, I’d like your company. If it doesn’t bother you, I mean I don’t wanna waste your time. Sorry, I was just...surprised. But if you want to...”

As Keith spoke, a smile slow crept up Shiro’s face to match the one that was growing on Keith’s. “Great! That’s—that’s great.”

Keith laughed, finishing up with pulling on his boots. “You said that. But it is.” He tapped his toes against the ground. “...Let’s get going, then?”

Shiro nodded. “Yeah, let’s do that. How were you thinking you’d get around?”

“Ah, I was just thinking of using one of the Castle’s hovercraft?” Keith headed outside with a nod of thanks.

“Oh. That’d be good.”

Except…

“I don’t know how to drive one,” Shiro confessed.

Keith glanced at him. “So you can pilot a shuttle but not drive a hovercraft? How were you thinking of getting around?”

“…I wasn’t.”

Keith laughed, looking a little exasperated, but also amused. “Guess you’re just gonna have to ride with me then.”

Shiro pictured it. Sitting behind Keith, arms around Keith’s waist and Keith pulled close? “I’m not complaining.” Shiro coughed. “I mean, if you’re offering. I trust your driving more than mine.”

Keith looked at him before glancing away quickly, brushing his bangs behind an ear. They sprang back again, but Shiro still found it incredibly endearing. “I’ll drive. You’ll just have to, um, hold on tight.”

Shiro grinned. “I’m strong,” he said, throwing Keith an exaggerated wink as he flexed one arm. It was said jokingly, but the way that Keith blushed was also very welcome. “I think I’ll manage.”

Despite the way his ears reddened, Keith rolled his eyes, elbowing Shiro.

“Oof!”

“Don’t be dumb,” Keith said, though he was smiling wryly. “C’mon, let’s get going. I wanna see the city.” He headed off down the corridor, and Shiro followed willingly.

Shiro had never been down to the garage. They usually landed their Castle close enough to the towns where they played concerts, and so any shopping or sight-seeing that needed to be done was easily accessible by foot, and Shiro always welcomed the chance to stretch his legs. On this planet, though, much of the cityscape hung suspended in the sky; Pidge had explained it as a phenomenon resulting from the equivalent of a magnetic pull, except with some extra words thrown in here and there to make it so Shiro was completely out of his depth. Whatever the reason, the end result was the skyline dotted with floating islands of black and white, large hovercraft shuttling passengers back and forth.

Public transport was obviously an option and the group of them had used it the other day, but Shiro found the idea of flying with Keith much more appealing. For one, it meant he got to be close to Keith, something he found increasingly enjoyable. It also meant he saw the absolute joy that lit Keith’s face when his eyes landed on one of their hovercraft.

“Let’s take that one,” Keith said, slightly breathless, darting over to it.

Shiro shrugged, not fussed. “Sure thing. If you like it.”

The grin on Keith’s face as he ran his hand reverently over the side of the vehicle was answer enough. It was large, certainly enough for both of them, and painted a screaming red with white stripes. It was probably a little bright for Shiro’s tastes, but Keith looked like Christmas had come early.

“I like it a lot,” Keith said.

Shiro smiled fondly. “All right, then. If you’re done drooling, let’s get going?”

Keith looked back at him, glaring for a moment before the grin quickly took over once more. “Y’know, I’m not even mad. Not even mad.” He jumped on, his hands immediately going to the controls. “C’mon.”

He turned to glance at Shiro, smile radiant, eyes glittering with excitement. Shiro found himself grinning, Keith’s happiness infectious. Without hesitation, he placed a hand on Keith’s shoulder to boost himself up. “You seem really excited; been a while since you’ve driven?”

“I don’t have my own ride back on Earth,” Keith explained. “So never got much of a chance. I love it, but…yeah, doesn’t happen very often. And besides, this one’s beautiful,” Keith said, almost crooning as he stroked the control panel.

Shiro laughed. “If you say so.”

“I do,” Keith said petulantly. “You ready?”

“Yeah.” Shiro raised his arms, hesitating. He _wanted_ to wrap them around Keith’s waist, and it was in fact probably the most logical thing to do. But he didn’t want to be creepy or invasive or awkward—although the fact that he was thinking about it so much and taking so long probably _made_ it awkward. Still, he’d seen the way that Keith guarded his space, and even if Keith usually welcomed the occasional touch to his shoulder or his back, that didn’t mean—

Smaller hands grabbed his firmly, and Keith yanked his arms so that they circled his waist. “You need to hold on,” he huffed. “Else you’re gonna fall off, and I don’t wanna be responsible for paying back however much you’re worth if you die.”

But Shiro had already ascended to another plane. One where he got to have his arms wrapped tight around Keith’s waist like some cliché romance movie, and now Shiro knew why they made so _many_ of the damn things, if it felt this good.

He couldn’t stop smiling. He only really noticed that he was smiling—and that he hadn’t stopped—when his cheek twitched with a slight ache. “Thanks for, um, looking after me.”

“Just self-preservation,” Keith muttered. Despite the nonchalant tone, he was tense in Shiro’s arms.

“Right,” Shiro said. “You sure it isn’t ‘cause you know Pidge’ll have my head if she knows I injured myself flying off the back of a hoverbike ‘cause I didn’t hold on tight enough? Sure you’re not saving _me_ from the wrath of Pidge?”

Keith snorted, and relaxed. He had a soft spot for Pidge; he seemed to find her infinitely amusing, and Shiro had known that giving Keith that mental image of an enraged Pidge was a sure way to have him relax. “Like _anything_ can save you from that. Though having you on my bike means that our fates are intertwined at this point. If you get hurt, she’s gonna yell at me, too. Seriously, I gotta look out for myself.”

Shiro grinned. “Or maybe you like me.”

For a moment, the only noise was the low hum of the bike beneath them, and the sound of Shiro’s own heart pounding in his rib cage.

Then Keith said, “Maybe I do.” The words rode out softly on his breath, barely audible.

Shiro was glad that Keith couldn’t see him; his ears started heating up immediately, and he couldn’t help the ridiculous smile which lit his face. Emboldened, he leaned forward, resting his head on Keith’s shoulder. When Keith didn’t move to shrug him off, Shiro took it as a victory. “I quite like you, too,” he admitted quietly.

Keith coughed, his fingers tapping against the bike. “Good. Otherwise you’re gonna get quite bored.”

“I never could, with you.”

“I hope you don’t regret saying that, Shirogane.”

Shiro smiled, tightening his grip around Keith’s waist as they sped off.

 _I never could, with you_.

* * *

Keith didn’t really remember his parents. There were inconsequential things that seemed to stick with him, fuzzy and indistinct, but not much more than that. The piano was one of those memories; the gentle way that Shiro had taken him through various songs and exercises over the past month or two reminded him of that calm focus from his childhood

He hadn’t expected a trip to the outskirts of the Tovak quadrant to trigger those same memories. There was lots of travelling around when he was a kid—whether with one or both parents, he didn’t know—but he’d been too young to remember any of the names before they’d settled on Earth. Once they had, there were vague memories of a cosy apartment, and then one day being told to wait on a street corner. He’d waited, and eventually someone had emerged from the building behind him, demanding to know what he was doing loitering around outside.

Like that, he’d met Sendak, and the rest was history.

When he’d walked by the other day, it had been the huge building in the middle of town that had reminded him. It was the type of Galra architecture that had been popular about a hundred years ago, all sharp angles and high spines, constructed with dark glass. And the fountain in front of it had screamed familiarity.

Grey, jagged edges jutted from the centre like a spiky metal flower, water flowing upwards and outwards over the spines. Square blocks circled the centre—blocks that Keith remembered sitting on, splashing his feet in the shallow water. He’d kicked off his red shoes before strong hands had lifted him up and seated him on the block so he could happily dangle his feet in the water as he’d giggled.

“…Should we get off the bike?” Shiro asked from behind him, and Keith jolted from his thoughts, realising that he’d been staring at the fountain even though he’d parked the bike already.

“Ah, yeah. We should.” He felt a rush of embarrassment. “Sorry.”

“Hey, it’s all right.” Shiro sounded a little amused, but he patted Keith’s stomach in comfort, his arms still tight around Keith’s waist. “Are you okay? You seemed a little spaced out there.”

Was he okay? Keith wasn’t quite sure. “I’ll be fine,” he said quietly. “C’mon, let’s go.”

But Shiro stayed where he was a moment longer. Hesitantly, Keith let himself lean back into Shiro’s arms and take a moment to steady himself, and he thought Shiro’s arms tightened almost imperceptibly around his waist. Whether or not he had imagined it, he took comfort in Shiro’s presence anyway.

Regrettably, Shiro’s arms slid away, and then the man himself hopped off the bike, looking around curiously with his hands perched on his hips. “So what did you wanna see?”

Keith followed suit, although he dismounted slightly slower, taking in a landscape that danced on the edges of familiarity. He wasn’t sure what he wanted to see. But his childhood had been such a fuzzy memory, the image of his parents so hazy, that he’d kind of leapt at anything that jogged his memory without a second thought. Stupidly impulsive, and now he was probably wasting Shiro’s time.

“I…” He swallowed. He didn’t _know_. He didn’t know what he wanted from all this. “I—I just remember coming here before.” He—he might’ve lived here. He couldn’t remember, but the place seemed familiar enough that he’d probably stayed for a while at some point. “Just wanted to…take a trip down memory lane.” Keith didn’t know what that’d involve. He hadn’t really had a plan, and he stared helplessly at the fountain and the surrounding buildings, at a loss.

Keith felt a hand rest gently on his elbow, and he looked up to see Shiro smiling softly at him. “Let’s just take a walk around the main square then, hm?” His voice was gentle, and Keith felt guilt settle when he saw the slight concern on Shiro’s face. But Shiro didn’t seem mad, gesturing at the various shops and restaurants surrounding the fountain. “How does that sound? I wouldn’t mind taking a walk, if you want to.”

Glad that someone had come to a decision for him, Keith nodded. “Yeah. Let’s—let’s do that.”

Shiro’s hand pulled away, and he jerked his head in the direction of the strip of shops. “C’mon then.”

Although it felt weak, Keith sent a smile Shiro’s way, and fell into step next to him.

As he probably should have expected, walking didn’t spark any sudden memories or dramatic montage of his childhood. He thought that one of the furniture shops looked slightly familiar, but so what if it did? It didn’t mean anything. It didn’t suddenly give him his mum back, or tell him where his dad had gone.

They wandered past the brightly lit displays of various stores and families eating at tables on the street, and the longer they walked in silence, the more desperate Keith became. He _had_ to have something to show for this. He couldn’t have just dragged Shiro out on a wild goose chase. But nothing else jogged his memory. Nothing else caught his attention like the fountain had, so maybe if he just…

“Give me a moment,” he said to Shiro, and he didn’t hang around for Shiro’s reply before he strode off in the direction of the fountain. If he could just stay a moment longer, he’d be able to think of something. Some road, or a name, or a face, and then he’d be able to go from there.

He got to the fountain, slightly out of breath, and stared at the water. He used to love playing in the water. Loved dipping his toes, or making a huge splash even if he told off for it. That wasn’t something he’d enjoyed in a while—no time when you’re working—but it was useless information, and it didn’t bring him any closer to what he wanted.

“Keith!” Keith looked up to see Shiro trotting towards him, looking worried.

“Sorry, I just—I just wanted to see this,” Keith said, before turning back to look at the water. But no matter how long he stared at it, how long his eyes flickered over the shimmer and gleam of the surface, nothing happened. Nothing else came to him, and he clenched his jaw, desperate for something, _anything_ …

“Keith…”

Shiro had clearly cottoned on to there being something not quite right now. He should’ve acted more normal, more engaged, but instead he’d gone and wasted Shiro’s time.

Keith looked up, an apology on his tongue—

But instead of annoyance, he saw concern. Shiro’s eyes were on his, and there was a slight crease to his brow that had Keith’s already aching heart clenching even tighter.

Instead of a demand to get back to the Castle, there was this:

“You know how a few weeks ago, before I suggested you come rehearse with us, I—I said I was your friend?” Shiro’s eyes were serious, and he laid a gentle hand on Keith’s shoulder.

Keith swallowed. “Yeah,” he managed to croak.

“And you’ve told me before that you consider me to be a friend, too.”

“Yeah. I—I meant that.”

Shiro nodded. “So, I’m just—I wanna make this much clear.” He cleared his throat. His concerned expression didn’t leave, but now he seemed a little more unsure. “I don’t know if you’re just having a bad day, or if there’s something else on your mind. And I’m—I’m not saying that if there is, you _have_ to tell me. But…” He took a deep breath, and then he smiled. It was soft, and still a little worried, but there was a fondness to it that Keith had so rarely experienced in his life. “ _If_ you do have something that you want to talk to someone about…well, I’m here to listen, okay? No judgment, or thinking it’s silly, or anything like that.”

Shiro smiled encouragingly again, his gaze soft. The air of nervousness remained, and he licked his lips. “That’s…all I wanted to say.”

Keith swallowed. Funny, there seemed to be something stuck in his throat.

“I don’t know where to start,” he said quietly, and his voice sounded like a stranger’s.

“Just take your time,” Shiro said. “Why did you want to come out today?”

“I—I think I might’ve lived here, when I was younger.” Keith glanced back at the fountain, bubbling away innocently, before he clenched his fists. “Really little. I can’t remember much, but I remember playing in that fountain, and the buildings look familiar.”

Shiro made an affirmative noise. “So you just wanted to see it all again?”

Keith hesitated. “That’s not all,” he said slowly, before taking a deep breath. “I told you I don’t really have a family?”

“Yeah,” Shiro said softly. “You’ve said that before.”

“I don’t know what happened to them. I remember Mum, a little bit. And I remember being _here_ with her, and I haven’t left Earth since we landed there, so I thought…” He didn’t know what he’d thought. That someone would recognise him? That’d he’d find a neighbour, a distant relative, something or someone to tell him where his parents had gone and why? In hindsight, it had been so stupid to come running here based on a memory.

“Keith?”

Right. Shiro deserved an explanation. “I—I don’t even need to know what happened to them. I mean, I do, but I—I don’t _need_ that, it’s—” He growled, tugging at his hair in frustration. “That’s not what bugs me about it. It’s not that I don’t know, but it’s kinda connected, and I just—”

“Shh.” Shiro lay a hand on Keith’s shoulder. “Hey, breathe. Take you time. Find your words. You don’t have to justify anything to me, okay?”

Keith sucked in a shuddering breath, closing his eyes and focussing on the feeling of Shiro’s palm on his shoulder. He concentrated on breathing, and it steadied him that Shiro was with him. Patient, understanding. A part of Keith still worried that it would all be too much and too dramatic, but having Shiro next to him let him breathe a little easier.

“I just…” He took another breath, eyes still closed. He could figure this out. He could, and he took a moment to listen to the gentle sound of the water trickling away, and of Shiro’s light breathing next to him. “I just want to know if it was hard for them,” he whispered. The words were getting harder to push past the lump in his throat, and he swallowed uselessly. “To leave me. I want to know if it was hard for them to walk away.”

“Keith…” Shiro sighed, but it didn’t sound like he was annoyed. Just worried. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I’m really sorry we couldn’t find you any answers.”

Keith shook his head, chest hollow. “Not your fault. You don’t need to be sorry. It was stupid anyway; I mean, what was I even hoping to find here? It was _years_ ago.”

“It’s not stupid to hope,” Shiro said gently. “It’s not stupid to want answers, wherever you might find them.”

“But I _knew_ that there wouldn’t be anything here,” Keith insisted. It wasn’t like Keith was entirely irrational; the hope had driven him to act, but the logical part of him had known it would be fruitless. “And I still came, and I dragged you out on top of it.”

“You didn’t drag me anywhere, Keith. I wanted to come.”

“You didn’t know why I wanted to visit.”

“Not, but I told you, I like your company. And I wouldn’t want you to be alone while trying to figure this out.”

At that, Keith opened his eyes, and finally looked back to Shiro.

Shiro was watching him carefully, a slight furrow to his brow and concern written clear across his face. When Keith looked at him, Shiro smiled very faintly. “I said I was your friend, okay?” he said quietly. “I want to be there for you, if you need me.”

Keith searched his eyes for any hint of a lie. But all he found was sincerity, and Shiro’s care for him. “Thanks,” he said hoarsely. “Thank you.”

Shiro’s gaze softened. “You’re welcome.” He raised his hand, then hesitated. Keith tilted his head, confused, and Shiro just smiled. “I—can I hug you?”

Something in Keith’s heart softened. Not just at the gesture, but that Shiro would _ask_. Though he yearned for it, he hesitated; he didn’t want to bother Shiro any more than he had already. But _Shiro_ himself had asked…

Maybe Keith was weak, to want the contact as desperately as he did. Maybe the past few months around Shiro—with his shoulder touches and his fingers on the small of Keith’s back—had lowered his defences and iron strength. But maybe it was okay to be a little bit weak. Shiro was here, and Shiro was _letting_ him have that weakness.

Maybe it was okay, then.

So even if it was weak, even if it meant he had to trust in someone else for once, Keith leaned forward, and wrapped his arms around Shiro’s waist.

Shiro’s arms settled around his shoulders, pulling him close, nestling Keith’s head against his chest. “I know it’s not the same, but—you’ve got me. As long as you need me, I’ll be here to support you.”

Keith swallowed. “Thank you. Same goes. I mean, I don’t know what I could give you that you’d need,” Keith hurried to say. “But if you—if you need anything, ever…”

“You don’t give yourself enough credit, Keith.” Shiro’s voice was warm in his ear, and Keith was sorely tempted to lean away and catch the look on Shiro’s face. To see if he could see any of the affection that he could hear in Shiro’s words. “You make me happy. I think you’re incredible.”

Or maybe he didn’t need to see it, when he could feel it in the way that Shiro held him tight, as though he never wanted to let go. When he could hear it in the steadiness of Shiro’s words, that unwavering loyalty.

“You make me happy, too,” Keith mumbled. The words felt awkward on his tongue, but if Shiro was being a little vulnerable, it was only fair that Keith was as well. “I haven’t met anyone else like you before.” _I’ve never had anyone else make me feel the way you do_.

Shiro’s laugh close to his ear was like balm to his chafed heart. “There’s no one else like me,” he said, and it was a relief that Keith was able to snort, and roll his eyes.

“You’re the worst,” he said.

Shiro pulled back to inspect him, his gaze on Keith’s, although he didn’t let go. “Are you feeling any better?”

Keith nodded, and he hesitated before patting Shiro gently on the back. “Yeah. A bit. Thanks.”

Shiro’s smile was soft. “My pleasure. But I know what’ll make you feel even better.” When Keith made a questioning noise, Shiro’s smile turned to a grin. “Dessert. C’mon, I saw a place back there. My treat.”

For the first time in close to twenty-four hours, Keith felt the tension in his heart release a little. It wasn’t entirely gone—there was still a buzz of anxiety under his skin, and the questions that he feared might always remain unanswered—but with Shiro smiling gently at him, he found that it settled a little, at least.

For the first time in close to twenty-four hours, Keith smiled properly. His heart still felt heavy, but he could finally muster up some tired fondness, at least. He drew away from Shiro’s embrace, and let Shiro’s smile fill his heart instead. “All right, then. Lead the way.”

“I think they have chocolate ice cream,” Shiro said happily, starting to lead Keith back to the shop. “With pistachios.”

Keith made a face. “I’ll pass,” he said. “No nuts on my desserts, thanks.”

Shiro looked aghast. “Keith, but they’re _so_ good.”

Keith scowled, even though his mouth twitched a little. “No arguing on this one, Shiro. They’re too crunchy.”

“Keith, you wouldn’t…” Shiro looked distressed, nibbling at his lip. “You wouldn’t _dessert_ me over this, would you?”

Keith stared at him for a moment. Did he just…?

With a groan, Keith elbowed Shiro in the ribs.

But for the first time in close to twenty-four hours, Keith laughed.


	10. Chapter 10

_“I want you to sing with us,” Shiro said, after another rehearsal with the band. “_ We _want you to sing with us.”_

_Keith stared at him, then at the others. They all looked hopeful, and encouraging. “You—what?”_

_“On stage. We want to invite you to sing with us.”_

_“I—” What was even happening? This was definitely a dream. “My contract with you guys ends soon.”_

_But Shiro shook his head. “We want to extend it, if you do. We want you to stay on. Stay with us.”_

_Keith stared. “I—I mean, I—I’d love to. But why do you want me on_ stage _with you?”_

_Shiro grasped his hand, and the look in his eyes was wild. Like standing on the edge of the universe and watching stars being born._

_“I want to show you to the rest of the universe,” he said quietly, fiercely._

_In that moment, Keith felt invincible._

_“Okay,” he said quietly. “I—I can try.”_

_For a moment, it was only the two of them. For a moment, it was only Shiro’s hand holding his, and Shiro’s gorgeous smile before him._

_But then he tore his gaze from Shiro’s—too much, too intense—to look at the rest of the band. “I’m going to need a lot of practice, though,” he admitted._

_The wild grins that met him told him that they would be right there with him._

 

 

Keith stood waiting in the wings, glancing back at Thace. He still wasn’t quite sure that this was happening. It was one thing to be in a rehearsal and mucking around with the rest of the band; it was completely another to be about to _step onto stage_ with said band. Granted, it was a smaller, more intimate show.

But when “more intimate” still meant almost a thousand other strangers, it was kind of terrifying.

Thace caught his gaze, and smiled. “You will be wonderful,” he said, stepping away from where he was monitoring the screen showing the stage. “It’s nice to see the group do all this again. They used to only do it for smaller shows back in their infancy.”

Keith swallowed. “And, um, this is a “smaller” show?”

Thace grinned. “Well, it is all relative, is it not?” He laid a hand on Keith’s shoulder. “I am surprised you decided to make an appearance.”

Keith shrugged, though he didn’t break their contact. “They asked and…it’s good to get out of your comfort zone, right?” He licked his lips. “I like music. I haven’t really had much chance to actually do anything for myself though, and I won’t when I get back to Earth either. This is pretty much the only way.” He smiled wryly. All or nothing, and Thace was right—the “all” was a terrifying idea.

“I’m sure Voltron would stay in contact even after you returned to Earth.”

Keith shook his head. “I’ve got work. I don’t have much time outside of that.”

“I’m certain no one would mind spending a weekend together here or there.” Thace smiled slyly. “Especially not Shiro.”

Keith ducked his head. It wasn’t _like_ that between them, although Keith had to admit that he’d thought about their hug a few weeks ago on more than one occasion. Had thought about the feeling of Shiro’s arms around him, had thought about how Shiro had _been_ there when Keith needed it. Where there had never been anyone before.

But Shiro was Shiro, and much as Keith liked to think that there might be something, he had to be realistic. And in the real world, superstars didn’t get serious with random members of their stage crew.

( _Although_ , the hopeful voice deep in his heart said, _superstars didn’t usually go out of their way to befriend random members of their stage crew either_. _Or write songs about them_.)

“I don’t get much time,” Keith said, ignoring Thace’s insinuation. “Either way, I’m looking forward to this.” But he still fiddled with the hem of his shirt; the butterflies seemed to have left his stomach and instead settled in his lungs, making it a little hard to breathe.

Thace’s hand wrapped around his wrist. “You will be fine. All of the band members speak very highly of you, and they’re professionals. Just enjoy your time; that will give the best performance.”

Keith looked down at Thace’s hand, taking a deep breath. Thace was right he knew. But it was always hard.

“You’re going to be fine,” Shiro had said earlier. “I’ll be right there with you. I promise you any mistake that you think you’re making, we’ve all done before. At _least_ once.”

Keith took a deep breath, remembering the words. That was right; Shiro would be right there with him, Allura backing him up, Pidge and her boundless energy, and Lance’s ability to turn anything from awkward to amazing. And he had support back stage, too, Thace watching out for him, Hunk looking after all of them, and Nyma and Rolo supporting him no matter what.

Keith nodded, looking up to meet Thace’s eye. “Thanks.”

Thace nodded at the screen showing the stage. “Almost time,” he murmured, squeezing Keith’s shoulder once more.

Keith swallowed, listening to Shiro’s voice rumble over the speakers. “Now, it’s been a while since we’ve done this,” he said, sounding slightly out of breath after the last song. “But with a smaller show tonight, we thought we might treat you to something special. Working with Voltron, I meet a lot of insanely talented people. And I’m not just talking about this pack of misfits I’ve got on stage with me.”

That was Keith’s cue, and Thace nudged him, as though Keith could possibly forget. Not when he’d checked, double checked, and triple checked with Shiro right before the show had started.

“You sure you’re okay with this?” Shiro had asked, all quiet concern, his hand gentle on Keith’s arm. “I don’t want to pressure you.”

And Keith had snorted, before smiling. It was always hard not to smile around Shiro. “It’s okay,” he’d said. “I want this. I can’t imagine anything better than getting to share a stage with you, Mr Big Shot.”

And Shiro had rolled his eyes, but he’d looked reassured. Keith himself had felt his own nerves settle.

But now they’d returned, and Keith took a steady breath to try dispel the churning of his stomach. It’d be okay. He was well supported, and it would be okay.

“We’re lucky enough to meet a lot of incredible people with our work, not least of all our wonderful stage crew,” Shiro continued on stage, and Keith felt his heart skip a beat at the words. It still amazed him that Shiro admired him in any way. “We haven’t done this for a while, but you’re a special group tonight.” There was an uproar at that, screams and shouts and applause. “So tonight, we’d like to introduce you to a friend of ours. You might’ve seen him before; we’ve shared him with you before but only online. Tonight, you get to see him live.”

Keith’s heart pounded, and he took a deep breath. This was it. “He’s a little shy, but I promise you, he’s amazing.” Keith rolled his eyes at that; of course Shiro had to be obnoxious, even when Keith wasn’t with him.

“Can you let him know how much you want to hear him?”

The screams were _deafening_ , and Keith couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face. Strangers. Hundreds of absolute strangers that wanted to see _him_ , that were screaming and shouting for _him_. And then Shiro’s voice again, low, and fond.

“Keith?”

Keith didn’t think he would ever be able to resist that call.

So he took a deep breath, stepping onto stage to thunderous applause, and Shiro’s smile beneath the silver lights calling him home.

* * *

When asked years later, Shiro would say that tonight was the night that he first fell in love with Keith.

Not just a crush. Not simply attraction, or admiration, or the fondness of friendship, but truly, deeply in love with him.

In the moment, he didn’t recognise what it was. In the moment, he didn’t identify the slow turn of his heart, or the helpless smile that tugged at his lips when Keith settled at the keyboard, looking nervously out into the crowd. Shiro didn’t think anything of the way his heart was racing when Keith smiled—bright and brilliant—when the crowd cheered for him. Performance adrenaline, he thought. Just the usual.

But there was nothing usual about Keith, and when he caught Shiro’s eye, Shiro’s smile only grew, and Shiro would carry the memory of Keith’s eyes beneath the shimmer of the stage lights forever.

Pidge counted in, and started up a gentle beat with the brush of cymbals and the pulsing of the snare.

For a few bars, it was just the sound of her drums and Lance’s bass, gently dancing over the intro. Allura grinned next to Shiro, her guitar momentarily abandoned for backing vocals. But Shiro only had eyes for Keith, who was staring at the keys intensely. Shiro wanted to step over, to lay a hand on Keith’s shoulder and tell him that he would be amazing, but he stayed where he was. This was Keith’s moment. Shiro had brought Keith in, wholeheartedly believing in Keith’s abilities. He would win over the crowd, as he had won over their fans on the internet. All Shiro had to do was be there, and give him that chance.

As Shiro watched, Keith took a deep breath, and placed his hands on the keys. Keith’s hands were gentle on the keyboard. Clumsy, but gentle, and Shiro smiled as he watched Keith carefully pick his way through the simple chords, Allura’s guitar adding just a little bit of punch to the song. Even slowed down and softened, _Blackout_ still had an edge to it, and Keith’s voice? That was the final piece to the ensemble.

And then he sang.

The words were familiar. Words that Shiro had written, thinking of the warmth of love and home in some far off future, now being breathed to life by one of the most beautiful voices, right in front of him.

Shiro and Allura hummed their backing lines, but they it was gentle and melancholy. The star was Keith. Keith with the rasp to his voice, Keith with the sweetest sound that Shiro had heard in a long time, Keith who held Shiro’s heart with nothing more than the smoothness in his voice and the light in his eyes.

Then when the chorus came around, Shiro smiled, because singing his own words had never felt like this before.

 

_“Do you know what I see, when I look at you?”_

 

(Keith had fallen in love long before this, but tonight only opened his heart more. His eyes fell on Shiro’s, and his breath hitched at the soft look—the _pride_ —that he saw there.)

 

_“It’s the love that I feel, babe, I want to scream it, shout it.”_

 

Keith seemed to hesitate over the next line, before finding his place again, his voice settling against Shiro’s harmony. Their voices danced together, and Shiro felt his heart fill and overflow, watching Keith gorgeous beneath the purple spotlights. Seeing Keith so happy and free made his soul soar, and there was electricity racing beneath his skin seeing Keith with him here on stage. His voice was damn perfect, reaching deep down to the depths of Shiro’s soul, and when Keith smiled at him, it was as though they sang as one.

 

_“Standing right there, and I know, we’ll see this through. You short my system, oh, you make my heart go blackout.”_

 

Shiro moved closer to where Keith was seated, keeping his eyes on Keith while he sang, and for the first time he let himself hope that the words would reach him. For the first time, he let himself dream that Keith might listen to what Shiro had been wanting to say for so long, doing it the only way he knew how.

And when Keith glanced up at him, Shiro dreamt that it might have worked.

They travelled the familiar peaks and valleys together, simple and easy, the sparse instrumentation leaving space for them to truly listen to each other. For them to learn to breathe, to live, and to fall in love.

Then they slowed, and finally stopped, the final notes ringing out in the hall, fading to nothing. Suspended in a moment of silence, their gazes lingering on each other.

Then the cheering started.

The crowd _erupted_ , screaming and shouting and calling Keith’s name. Keith blinked, before dragging his gaze from Shiro’s to stare, wide-eyed, at the sea of strangers who loved him. A slow smile started to creep up his face, and Shiro’s heart ached at how beautiful he was.

He stepped forward and offered his hand, and Keith took it with no hesitation. He walked Keith to the front of the stage, before stepping back.

“Everyone…”

How did he even come down from this high? How did he explain to these strangers what Keith meant to him? How Keith was shy and gruff, but caring and kind and funny. A little too impatient sometimes, but honest and open and real.

There really wasn’t any way to let them know. No way to tell them exactly all the million and one things Keith was. He was Keith; as simple, and as complex as that.

“This is Keith. Show him how much you love him!”

When asked years later, Shiro would say that when Keith turned to him with love in his eyes and their hands joined together, it was the night he truly found home.

* * *

They stumbled off stage to ongoing screams of the crowd, Shiro laughing, his heart soaring even more than it usually did with a good performance. Keith had been _amazing_ , and the energy that he had brought with him was electrifying. Not the wild craziness that Lance and Allura had, or the steadily building, rapid fire force that was Pidge.

No, it had been something softer but so beautifully _real_ , and Shiro could still feel the emotion in his veins.

Once they were out of the stairwell, Shiro paused, turning to Keith with a radiant smile. “You were perfect. That was incredible.” And Keith had been; it had been so long since Shiro had felt like that.

Keith smiled, and Shiro…

Shiro didn’t think that his heart could ever feel this way just from seeing someone smile.

“Thanks,” Keith said, brushing his hair back. They kept their voices quiet; although it was clear that no one would hear them with the show still going on stage, the moment felt intimate. Like a fragile treasure that Shiro wasn’t quite ready to share with the world. “I’ve had a good teacher.”

Shiro laughed lightly. “I am _so_ glad I got to meet you.” He glanced up at one of the screens where the rest of his band was playing. One song where he didn’t need to be on stage, Allura instead taking the lead; he usually used the time to get a drink and a quick snack, but with Keith here, there really wasn’t anywhere else he wanted to be. “So glad.”

Keith’s eyes were steady on his, before they flickered down slightly. “Yeah, me—me too.” He licked his lips, and Shiro was entranced. “Shiro…can I ask something?”

“Of course,” he said softly. “What is it?”

“I…” Keith bit his lip. “I just was wondering—”

“Sorry guys, coming through!” Nyma barrelled through, and Keith sprang out of her way as she trotted through with several guitars.

Shiro felt his absence immediately. He wanted to reach out for Keith, but whatever mood Keith had been in, it had most definitely fled. Keith glanced around them— taking in Thace talking low on his microphone, some other humans wheeling props around—and his eyes widened as though he suddenly remembered that they weren’t alone.

“Keith?” Shiro kept his voice soft, hoping not to spook him. He reached for Keith’s hand cautiously—

But Keith backed away hurriedly, expression falling. “Ah, we should—you’re busy, you need to—” He stumbled, and Shiro darted forward in an attempt to steady him, but Keith just kept walking away. “You need to get back on stage, sorry to waste your time and thanks for—”

It had been there. The moment had been there, and Shiro was _not_ going to let it slip away again. “Keith, wait!” Shiro grabbed his arm, and Keith turned. It was dark, the dappled shadows moving across Keith’s face, but Shiro thought he saw a hint of red. Decided to take a chance on it, and on the way Keith’s eyes didn’t leave his.

He tugged Keith quickly into a corner amongst the curtains where he was certain no one would interrupt. Then he stepped closer, and Keith let out a quick breath when Shiro reached down to tangle their fingers together. “I got two minutes before I have to go on.” He swallowed, his eyes on Keith. Gently, he reached up with his other hand to brush Keith’s bangs back, then cup his cheek gently, rubbing the smooth skin gently with his thumb.

“Please let me know if I’ve read this wrong,” he murmured.

For a terrifying moment, he thought he had; Keith gazed up at him, wide-eyed and disbelieving, and Shiro was ready to back off.

But then Keith relaxed, and he pushed himself up on his toes so his mouth was hovering a breath away from Shiro’s. His arm slid around Shiro’s waist in the best answer possible, the warmth of him promising the beginning of something amazing.

“You haven’t,” he whispered, and then his lips were pressed against Shiro, warm, soft, and perfect.

It wasn’t quite how he imagined it. He’d never thought that it would be like this, high from the adrenaline of the show and high on the feeling of _Keith_ , so unbelievably real and snug in his arms. He hadn’t thought that their first kiss would be to the distant roar of the crowd, and couldn’t possibly have imagined the soft noise that Keith made when Shiro gently tilted his chin up so he could deepen the kiss.

It wasn’t quite how he imagined, but he wasn’t sure that any amount of earlier daydreaming could have prepared him for Keith actually wanting him back.

They drew away, and Shiro watched Keith open his eyes slowly, looking a little dazed. Shiro smiled softly, petting Keith’s hair. “You okay?” he murmured.

Keith nodded. “Er, yeah. I’m—I’m good.” He licked his lips, and he slowly started to smile. There wasn’t anything more beautiful than the way Keith’s smile unfurled, like a flower slowly coming to life in spring. “What about you?”

“Well, I can’t stop smiling like an idiot, if that tells you anything.” Keith rolled his eyes, and Shiro kissed his forehead gently. “I’m doing great.”

Keith nodded, and seemed to hesitate a moment, before pressing his face to Shiro’s chest. It wasn’t as firm as it could have been, just a slight tilt of his forehead towards Shiro’s collar bone, but Shiro was content. “Good. Same here.”

Shiro let himself hold Keith for a moment longer, rubbing his hand up and down Keith’s back, before sighing. “I…should probably get going. It’s almost time for me to get back.”

Keith nodded, looking a little disappointed as he drew away. Shiro regretted the sudden absence from his arms—and the slight uncertainty that crossed Keith’s face—but duty called. “Yeah. I’ll—I’ll see you after…?”

“Of course,” Shiro said. “Let’s...meet in the dining room? Grab some food first?”

“Okay. I’ll—I’ll see you there, then.”

Shiro smiled, reaching for Keith’s hand and squeezing once, before letting go again. “I’ll see you soon.”

He turned away reluctantly, mind whirling. He needed to focus on the show. He had to be in the right mindset, but the only thought he had was of Keith’s lips against his and the feeling of Keith in his arms. What song he was meant to sing next hardly seemed important.

“Wait, Shiro.” Then it was _Keith_ grabbing _him_ this time, tugging him back over.

And sending his heartbeat into overdrive by pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“For luck,” Keith whispered, before darting off.

Shiro stared at his retreating back for a moment, before a slow smile started to tug at his lips. Luck? There wasn’t really anything else he needed it for. Not anymore.


	11. Chapter 11

It’d been hard to stay focused after…well, everything. Keith’s first time on stage, and then…

And then everything that had happened _off_ stage too. Shiro’s arms solid around him, Shiro’s fingers in his hand, and gentle on his cheek. Everything that he’d been daydreaming of, and Keith was still reeling that it had actually happened and that it _wasn’t_ a dream.

Shiro had wanted him; wanted him still, Keith suspected, unless something had drastically changed in the ten or so minutes since Shiro had had to dart back on stage to join his band again. Shiro wanted him, and the way he’d looked at Keith in the dim lights backstage—wild, fond, awed—had Keith more than a little distracted as he tried to continue going about his tasks for the rest of the show.

When Keith walked on stage to switch out a cable from an amp halfway through the show, the crowd _screamed_. He was shocked for a moment, and the screens on stage showed his gormless expression, before a slow smile crept onto his face. They were so excited to see him, and Keith felt his ears burning up but it was accompanied by giddy happiness, not anxiety. He even managed a small bow before jogging back off stage, returning the smile that Shiro shot his way.

It was a little silly that Shiro’s smile could reassure him so much. But seeing him there, still excited and happy to see Keith, settled something in Keith’s heart.

Hours later, he found himself loitering around in the dining hall, sipping tiredly at a hot chocolate that Hunk had shoved in his hands. He was exhausted, but every time a member of the crew passed by to congratulate him or tell him he’d done well, warmth and pride bubbled in his heart. No, it hadn’t been the biggest show in the world, but the crowd had clearly enjoyed it, and that was all that really mattered.

That, and the fact that he didn’t feel like anything could bring him down right now. Not with the memory of Shiro’s lips on his, and Shiro’s warmth pressed up, solid and real against him.

“You know, you can sit down,” Hunk said. Keith glanced behind him to see Hunk leaning against a table. “If you wanna avoid people, you don’t have to stand in the corner; you can sit there too.”

Keith laughed lightly. “I’m okay. I’m just…”

The dining hall door opened, and Keith peered over. Were the band—nope. Thace walked in with Ulaz, inclining his head when he spotted Keith, then moving over to Hunk’s usual post-concert spread. Keith deflated slightly. Where was Shiro?”

“…“Just?” Just looking for someone?”

Keith ducked his head when he realised that he’d trailed off in the middle of his sentence. “Yeah, just…waiting.”

Hunk laughed. “Man, you two are _so_ obvious.”

Even just yesterday, Keith would’ve denied it. But after everything—Shiro’s eyes brilliant on his on stage, Shiro’s arm around his waist, Shiro _wanting_ him—there wasn’t anything for Keith to do but smile into his cup of chocolate.

Hunk snickered next to him. “Oh, this is gonna be good.”

“Shut up,” Keith muttered, but he was grinning.

“Sure, sure.” Hunk jogged him with his elbow, almost making Keith drop his cup. “Well, there they are, so you don’t have to stand around in the corner anymore.”

Keith looked up immediately, and sure enough, Voltron had just entered. Allura arrived first, looking as put together as always, followed closely by Lance, who had Pidge slung over his back. Pidge looked absolutely wiped out, but she perked up when she saw the food and drinks that Hunk had spread out, wriggling before Lance dropped her to the floor to trot over to the food.

Then Shiro walked in right after Lance, looking tired, but content. He looked around, and as soon as he met Keith’s eye, a huge smile lit his face. Keith was familiar with the feeling, because he felt the same thing happen to him, and he pushed away from where he was leaning against the wall.

Shiro made his way towards him, and Keith’s heart was doing little flips as he approached. Even tired and in baggy track pants, Shiro looked like a dream, especially when his smile turned soft once he reached Keith.

“Hi,” Keith said. He clutched his cup with both hands, nerves dancing around in his stomach.

The fact that Shiro fiddled with his fringe, tugged at it, pulled at his collar, then brushed his fingers through his hair again, was both reassuring and endearing. Maybe he was just as nervous as Keith was. “Hey.” He sounded slightly breathless, and he brushed his fringe back again. “How’re things?”

“Good.” Keith couldn’t stop smiling. “Really good.”

Shiro’s expression softened. “I’m glad.” He glanced over at the table where the food was set up, looking wistful. “I should grab some some drink or something. I’m parched.” He shifted on his feet, looking a little reluctant. “You wanna come with me, or…?”

“Here.” Hunk appeared, grabbed Shiro’s arm, and shoved a cup into his hand.

Shiro blinked in surprise, looking at Hunk. “Ah—”

Hunk rounded on Keith, and Keith almost backed off from the intensity of his gaze as he brandished a kettle. “And you.” He grabbed Keith’s cup from him, filled it up with more chocolate, before handing it back. “There. Now go have your alone time.”

Shiro still looked taken aback by the blizzard that had just whirled through, looking from his drink—steaming tea, by the looks of it—back to Hunk, and then back to his drink. “Um, thanks…?”

“No need to thank me, just get out of here before Lance comes and ruins the moment.”

At that, Keith had to laugh. “C’mon Shiro, let’s go. We shouldn’t waste Hunk’s effort.”

“That’s right,” Hunk said, nodding decisively. He cut an impressive figure, his bright orange apron clashing horribly with his green shirt, and looking fierce as he wielded his gently steaming kettle. “Off you go.”

Shiro glanced back at the rest of the group, before placing his hand on the small of Keith’s back and ushering him outside. Keith went willingly, cradling his cup in his hands as they stepped outside, the door sliding shut behind them to mute the movement and conversations from inside the room.

They paused a moment, Keith looking up to Shiro. Shiro was watching him back, soft smile in place, hand still resting on Keith’s back. “Let’s go take a walk?” he asked quietly.

Keith nodded. “Yeah. I’m not tired enough for bed yet.”

“No, me neither.”

They started walking, and Keith almost protested when Shiro’s hand dropped away. But he kept quiet, sipping at his drink instead. He didn’t know where they were going, but Keith didn’t really mind. One place would be as good as another when he had Shiro next to him, their fingers brushing together lightly.

They were quiet as they walked, footsteps echoing, breaths light as they sipped at their drinks. It was Shiro who broke the silence. “You want to sit down here?” he asked, voice sliding into the quiet. He gestured at a cosy alcove where the steel of the walls gave away to a curved dome of thick glass, with cushioned seating so that you could look out into the stars.

Keith nodded, hesitantly sliding into the seat before Shiro sat down next to him. He sipped at the final remnants of his drink, glancing down at Shiro’s hand which lay between them. He wanted desperately to reach down and take it, but was it too fast? They’d been wrapped up in each other _way_ closer than just tangled fingers before, but Keith still wasn’t sure. “So…”

Next to him, Shiro shifted. “So.”

Keith set his empty cup down next to him, scooting back on the seat a little. “So…we’re doing this, right?”

Shiro looked over to him. “If by “this” you mean…dating, then yeah.” He smiled softly. “I—I’d like to. If you want to.”

Keith swallowed. He’d suspected as much—kissing and full body hugs and all—but hearing Shiro say the words out loud had his heart pounding. “Yeah, I—I want to, too.” He cleared his throat. “I…I like you a lot. You’re a good friend, and I want to…try this with you.”

The giddy smile that Shiro sent his way, and the crushing hug that Shiro wrapped him in made his heart fill to bursting.

“Great,” Shiro said, his voice hoarse, warming Keith’s heart. “That’s great.” He laughed, and then his fingers found their way into Keith’s hair, which had to be the best feeling ever. “I’m so glad.”

Keith laughed lightly too, wrapping his arms around Shiro’s waist too. “I can tell.”

Shiro loosened his hold eventually, although he kept his arms slung loosely around Keith’s shoulders, rubbing gentle circles in his back. “Did I tell you how amazing you were tonight?”

Keith’s ears started heating up. “Yeah. You might’ve mentioned it.”

“You sounded incredible.” Shiro drew back, and he had such a fond expression on his face that it made Keith’s heart ache. “It was…amazing.”

Keith elbowed him gently. “You’ve already used that word ten times.”

Shiro pouted, and it was adorable. Grown man, rich and successful, and pouting in Keith’s arms. “Well, it’s true.”

Keith laughed gently, squeezing Shiro’s waist. “Thank you for giving me the chance. I—I never would’ve dreamed of it. Or of…what happened after.”

“I liked you when I first saw you,” Shiro confessed.

“Wait, really?” Keith stared, trying to find any hint of a lie. But Shiro didn’t _look_ like he was lying; he just looked a little embarrassed as he nodded.

“Yeah, really.” Shiro smiled, squeezing Keith around the shoulders. “It was really sweet of you to find my lip balm for me.”

“Anyone would’ve done the same.”

“Not really. It’s not exactly important.”

“Well, I’m glad I picked up your lip balm then.” Keith let himself relax a little against Shiro’s hold, looking out the window into the starry depths. It was comfortable, like this. He’d worried that it might be awkward, that Shiro had just been caught up in the moment after the concert and that once they were down from that high, they wouldn’t know how to act around each other. But weirdly enough, the silence with Shiro wasn’t uncomfortable. Keith didn’t feel the _need_ to talk to fill in the quiet, just the way it usually was when he was around Shiro before The Kiss.

And it was only because he didn’t feel the need to be anything or act a certain way, that Keith was able to ask: “So you’re sure about this then?”

Next to him, Shiro shifted, his arm tightening around Keith’s waist. “Very sure. Like I said, I like you very much.” Shiro smiled down at him, dropping a gentle kiss to his forehead. It was a little shy, as though Shiro wasn’t quite sure about it, but Keith felt like he was glowing. “So yeah, I’m sure about this.”

Keith leaned into Shiro’s hold, leaning up to kiss his cheek shyly as well. “Okay, as long as you’re sure. I’m glad you kissed me.”

Shiro laughed, squeezing Keith gently. “I’m glad I kissed you, too.” He sighed, looking out the window. “You want to head back, or you want to stay here a little longer?”

Keith snuggled against him, looking out the window as well. The stars lit up the inky black as usual, and despite months of seeing this view, Keith still hadn’t tired of it. “Let’s stay here a little bit longer,” he said. “I like being here with you.”

Shiro relaxed next to him, tucking him closer against him. “I was hoping you’d say that. Let’s stay a little longer then.”

They watched the stars and galaxies drift by for a while after that, both content with the quiet that lay between them, only breaching it occasionally to make a passing comment on the view in front of them. They were together, and words didn’t really matter in the aftermath of everything that had happened that night. All that Keith wanted was right there with him, warm and real by his side, and he couldn’t remember ever having been happier or more at peace in his life.

 

 

It was only because they didn’t head back, that Keith missed the barrage of calls to his tablet, every one from the same caller.

* * *

 

A week later, Shiro was still floating on Cloud Nine.

Okay, well, he was way up above any clouds on any planet, but that didn’t matter. Tiny details didn’t matter—especially ones concerning proverbial clouds—when his long, embarrassing crush finally seemed to have worked out. He was giddy with the feeling—and the ribbing from his band had increased significantly but again, that was all details.

He knew it was just a honeymoon phase, that eventually it would die down into something steadier. Something more like simmering embers, rather than a wild forest fire that lit his heart every time he so much as thought of Keith. But for the moment, it was what it was, and he would enjoy every moment of it.

Including the way that his heart was pounding as he headed down to one of the practice rooms to meet Keith for another lesson. They’d moved far beyond any real need for lessons now, and now their time wasn’t spent so much on teaching Keith as it was simply making music together.

The fact that he’d also been thinking about asking Keith out on a date also had his heart rate picking up a little. He wanted to ask Keith out today, to go out with him on a date. A date date. Whether it was in the next month or two before their tour wrapped up, or afterwards when they’d settled back on Earth, Shiro didn’t really mind. All he knew was that he wanted some alone time with Keith, a day where he could treat him to a nice meal, get to hold hands, learn more about each other—all those boring, first date things that they hadn’t quite been able to do properly yet.

Shiro wanted all those little things, and more, with Keith. He could only hope that Keith wanted it just as much as he did.

Arriving at the room, Shiro smiled when he heard Keith singing already. It wasn’t anything by Voltron, but some random top forty song that Shiro remembered from a few years back. He didn’t quite remember the title, but whatever it was, it made him smile, although that might’ve also been the fact that it was just Keith.

He pushed the door open slowly, hoping not to disturb Keith. But as soon as he entered, Keith stopped playing. He was seated at the piano and he shot to his feet with a smile when Shiro entered. “Shiro.”

“Hey.” Shiro went to him immediately, reaching out for a hug. Keith went willingly, and Shiro sighed as he folded him inside his arms. Keith looked up at him expectantly, his own arms going around Shiro’s waist. Shiro smiled, and lowered his lips to Keith’s.

The kiss was brief but affectionate, Keith drawing back to nuzzle gently at Shiro’s neck. “How’s your day been?”

“Good. Rehearsal went well.” He kissed the side of Keith’s head. “Even better now I’m here, though.”

“Shiro…” Keith grumbled, but Shiro heard the smile in his voice.

“What? I’ve told you before, I like spending time with you. Hasn’t changed since I told you that yesterday.”

Keith laughed. “Okay, okay. Wanna get started? I’ve been mucking around with that new song you’ve been working on.”

“Wait, really?” Shiro grinned. “You picked it up?”

“Yeah…I mean, you kind of use the same couple of chord progressions over and over with your songs.” Keith pulled away from the embrace, nudging Shiro with his elbow before sitting back down at the keyboard. “Not that hard to figure out, really.”

“They’re good chords!” Shiro protested.

“Not saying they’re not.” Keith started playing the opening chords to the song, making a face when he fumbled one of them.

Shiro just stood there, watching as Keith played slowly and hummed the melody. Shiro hadn’t shared the words with anyone else yet, not beyond that first time he’d sung it for the rest of the band when they’d been rehearsing with Keith. Now though, he carried a chair quietly over to sit next to Keith and started to sing.

Keith looked up when he began, smiling gently as he played the chords, embellishing the simple pattern. Shiro sang softly, needing no pretences here, not caring if he missed the occasional note. It was just him and Keith, and he didn’t need to put on a show. All he needed was his voice, his heart, and Keith beside him.

When the song found its end, Keith leaned against him gently. “It’s really pretty,” he said quietly. “I like it.”

Shiro hummed, slinging an arm around Keith’s shoulders. “It’s inspired by a very pretty person,” he said, clearing his throat, his ears heating up. He still was never quite sure how compliments would be taken.

For example, right now, Keith seemed not to have realised at all. “Who’s it about?” he asked, looking at Shiro curiously.

“I…” Shiro shook his head, smiling helplessly. Subtlety was probably not the best option here. “You,” he said, brushing the hair from Keith’s eyes.

 _Now_ Keith stared at him for a moment before ducking his head, hiding behind his bangs. But not before Shiro had caught the incredibly pleased expression on his face, and the wide grin that tugged at his lips. “ _Shiro_.”

“It’s true.” Shiro held him close, humming snippets of the melody again. “You make me feel…amazing, Keith.”

Keith looked up at him, still smiling, though now looking a bit nervous. “You—you make me really happy too.” He opened his mouth, then closed it again, looking away.

Shiro frowned. “Keith? What’s wrong?”

Keith shook his head quickly. “Nothing, just…can I kiss you?” he said quickly.

Shiro’s heart melted at the request. “Of course you can.”

Keith still looked a little uncertain, though now he was smiling gently, so Shiro waited for him to make the first move. Slowly, Keith brought his hand up to cup his cheek, brushing a thumb over Shiro’s skin. Shiro’s heart was pounding, and his breath hitched when Keith leaned up slightly to press his lips gently to Shiro’s.

It was still a little tentative, the two of them still trying to figure each other out, but it’d grown a little more confident since the last time. Keith wrapped his arm around Shiro’s waist to draw him closer, and Shiro went willingly, letting Keith guide him. His breath stuttered when Keith swiped his tongue along his lower lip, and Shiro parted his lips so that they could deepen the kiss. It was close to perfect: Keith pressed up, warm and real against him, gently stroking Shiro’s cheek, the scent of him clean and calming.

Nothing had ever felt like this before. He’d had relationships in the past, but that had only been two or three in high school. Once Voltron had really started going, there hadn’t been anyone who had really caught his attention, not the way Keith had. Keith cared so much. He was so considerate and gentle, and it showed in the way that he asked permission to kiss Shiro, showed in the way that even now, when Shiro was letting him, he took the kiss slowly, letting both of them simply appreciate the moment.

When they drew back, both slightly breathless, Shiro gave a loud smacking kiss to Keith’s cheek, making Keith laugh.

“Keith,” Shiro said, before he lost his nerve.

“Shiro.”

Shiro laughed, tucking Keith’s bangs behind his ear. They sprang right back, and Shiro loved it. “Do you want to go on a date with me?”

Keith frowned, which _wasn’t_ the reaction that Shiro had been hoping for. “But…we’re already dating.”

Relief washed over Shiro; he’d been afraid that the furrowing of Keith’s brow had meant rejection. “No, I meant like, take you out. Go to dinner, or to a fair, or even just for a coffee. I want to hang out with you, away from work and the Castle.”

“Oh.” At that, Keith looked pleased. “Y-yeah. That’d be nice. I want to go on a date with you too.”

Shiro grinned. “That’s great. That’s really great.”

“Watch out, your vocabulary is shrinking.”

Shiro laughed. “You mess up my brain a little. But I don’t mind.” He nuzzled against Keith, feeling so content. “So…where do you want to go? We could have a look around some of the planets that we’re gonna go to for the rest of the tour, or we can wait ‘til we’re back on Earth.”

“When do we next get a break?”

“Altea,” Shiro said. He’d checked before coming. “We’ll play three shows, and then we’ll have two days off. Have you been before?”

Keith shook his head, still smiling. “No, I haven’t. Is it nice?”

“Yeah, Altea’s gorgeous. I can show you around. Give you that shuttle ride I promised.” He brushed at Keith’s hair again. “So what do you say?”

Keith hummed, as though he was considering. But Shiro didn’t feel any panic; he’d been around Keith long enough to know what he looked like when he was teasing. “I say…yes.”

Even though he hadn’t been concerned, Shiro still grinned, holding Keith close to him again. “Great.”

“You’re overusing that word.”

“ _Super_ great,” Shiro said instead.

Keith laughed. “That’s not a different word Shiro.”

“Let’s pretend it is.” He rocked Keith back and forth, heart racing. Keith had said yes. He’d said _yes_. “We’re going to get so much ribbing from the others though.”

“Mmm. Well, it can’t be any worse than when Thace showed them the photo of us kissing backstage.”

Shiro blushed, groaning at the memory. Thace had apparently caught their very first kiss on camera, and had shown up to rehearsal and projected the hologram wordlessly as Shiro and Keith gaped. The reactions had ranged from squawking to smirking, and Shiro hadn’t known what had been worse.

“No, it can’t,” he sighed. “Still, hopefully we don’t end up with any distractions.”

Keith hesitated, but then he nodded. “We should be able to avoid them, if we’re lucky.”

“I’m looking forward to it,” Shiro said quietly. It might have only been a week since they’d gotten together properly, but Shiro was already seeing some far-off, albeit fuzzy, future together. Road trips and music, hanging out at cafés and walking home together after work.

But that was all for another day. For now, he had Keith, smiling beautifully in front of him, and he wasn’t going to waste a single moment with him. He knew that sometimes, you never got another chance to do what you really wanted. He’d seen the pain that his father had gone through after his mum had died, had felt his own form of grief when he’d lost his arm. Sometimes, there were no second chances, and now that Shiro had someone that made him so incredibly happy, he wanted to treasure every moment with Keith.

So he leaned forward, to kiss Keith gently again. “For luck,” he said, echoing Keith’s words from that first, incredible night. “So that we can sneak out of the Castle without Pidge catching us on the monitors.”

Keith laughed, quiet and beautiful, before he kissed Shiro back, gentle as snow on flower petals.

“For luck.”


	12. Chapter 12

The day started off as it normally did.

Keith woke up with a groan, squinting at his alarm clock and mashing his face into the pillow for good measure, like he always did. It took him twenty minutes to drag himself to the kitchen for breakfast; he liked to roll around in bed for a bit before getting up.

Breakfast had been the usual. Rehearsal had been the usual, with the new addition of Shiro smiling giddily whenever he caught Keith’s eye, and Keith smiling back.

But then…

But then.

He’d gone back to his room in the break between rehearsal and lunch. But when he’d opened the door, there’d already been someone in there.

Someone familiar, and as his door slid shut behind him, Keith froze.

“Sendak?” His voice came out a disbelieving croak. “What’re you doing here? Weren’t you on Earth?”

Sendak stood from where he’d been sitting on Keith’s bed, drawing himself up to his full height. He was angry, and Keith took a step back. “And you thought you might be able to hide from me, because I was on Earth?” he asked flatly.

Keith flinched. He’d—he’d thought exactly that. Whether consciously or not, the galaxies that were between himself and his boss had made him at least slightly more at ease. But that had been a mistake, and Keith should’ve known.

“I wasn’t hiding,” he said, and he stopped retreating. He stood his ground despite the way his heart shook. “I’ve got nothing _to_ hide.”

“Right.” The single word was short and clipped, and Sendak advanced. “This band has been trying to poach you. I’ve told you that I won’t let that happen, and then you ignore me. Still got nothing to hide, boy?”

Too close, _too close_. Keith tried not to move, but when Sendak pushed into his space, he took a step back. “I—”

Where was Shiro? It was pathetic, the way that he wished that Shiro were here. Shiro with his patient words and spine of steel. But it was just Keith, now: alone, afraid, and made smaller by Sendak, as he had always been.

Cold metal wrapped around his wrist, and Keith flinched. “Let go,” he said, voice shaky.

“No.”

Keith gasped when the grip tightened, pain shooting through his wrist. “Let go of me,” he snarled, yanking uselessly at Sendak’s grip.

“You are not staying with them. Your contract ends in five days, and then you will be coming back to Earth.”

“They said I could stay on!” He tried to twist away again, but Sendak’s grip only got tighter. “Look, I don’t have to keep working for you, okay? I—I’m grateful for the work you’ve given me, I _am_. But I stayed with you ‘cause it was the only gig I could get, but now someone actually wants me. They want to hire _me_ , and not because of anything you did, so don’t go twisting it around.”

Wrong thing to say. It had been the wrong thing to say, and Keith _knew_ that, knew that Sendak needed gentle persuasion and to be convinced that he was still right. Now, Sendak’s snarl only became uglier. “I don’t care what they want, _boy_. You’re already part of a team that I’ve signed on. Ruin me, and I’ll ruin you.” The words were a low growl.

“Leave me alone!” He tried to yank his arm from Sendak’s grip, and this time Sendak let him slip away. Keith backed away, breathing heavily and his wrist hot with pain.

“Leave you alone?” Sendak vibrated with rage. “If I had left you alone, you would’ve starved _years_ ago. I raised you when you were dumped on my doorstep, because no one wanted to be fettered with a snotty, ungrateful child. I’ll leave you alone when you give back everything you’ve taken from me.”

Fear trickled down Keith’s spine, sending a crawling shudder through his skin. Sendak would find some horrible way to make his life hell; Keith had seen him do it before, embroil people in draining legal battles until they had nothing left, no energy but to cave to whatever his wishes were. Sendak had done it to far stronger people than Keith. Keith, who had nothing and no one.

“That—that wasn’t what I meant,” he said weakly. “I’ll still come back, I’ll still work, it’s just they want me on for another few weeks.” He looked at Sendak, knowing that begging rarely worked. “Please? I’m—I’m actually learning something, I’m—”

“No,” Sendak said, clipping Keith’s wings before he’d even started to dream of spreading them. “I’ve signed you on to someone else; I will not have you ruining this and damaging my reputation.”

 _But what about_ my _life?_ “Sendak, I—I know that you’ve been really busy organising things, but Voltron’s planned for me to stay on too.” Keith swallowed, heart pounding; the few times he’d gone up against Sendak, he’d never gotten his way. “They’ve been working really hard, too, and it’s not fair for me to just up and leave them either.”

Sendak snorted. “And how many of you are there on this ship?” he asked. “How many people can replace you, just like that?”

Keith hesitated. “I—they’ll be able to find someone, but still, it’ll be inconvenient for—”

“Yes, but you said it yourself: they’ll be able to find someone.” Sendak sighed. “Just—come home, Keith. I’ll organise a job that you’ll enjoy, with people who actually appreciate the good work that we do.”

“But Voltron does—” _Shiro_ did.

“Yes, you and the fifty others they’ve got here.” Sendak’s voice left no room for argument, nor did his presence. He’d let go of Keith, but Keith was still backed up against the wall, Sendak glaring down at him. “You’re not important to them. I’ve already told their manager that I require you back on Earth.”

Surely Coran would realise? Surely Coran would let Keith stay; after all, he’d never treated Keith with anything but kindness.

But it was part of his job, Keith realised as his heart sank. It was part of his job to be polite and make sure everyone was comfortable. If he was going to go back with Sendak, then it wouldn’t matter to him—to _any_ of them—what Keith wanted anymore. His time here was over.

“I can’t stay on another few weeks?” he asked, knowing it was futile.

Sendak sighed. “I said this already, I have work for you to do. I need you back on Earth now,” he explained, overly patient. “So no, you cannot stay.”

Simple, when Sendak explained it to him. And after all, this was just business.

So Keith nodded mutely, and turned his hollow gaze to the floor.

“And I’ve seen the way you look at the singer,” Sendak said, and the dismissive way he said it jabbed icy shards into Keith’s heart, painful in a way that Keith didn’t think was possible beneath the settling numbness. What came after only hurt worse. “I hope you aren’t stupid enough to act on it. He’s got more important things to worry about.”

“I—I know,” Keith stuttered. He did. It wasn’t anything he hadn’t told himself.

“Good. I assume you know not to act, then?”

“We’re—we’re not—” But the denial refused to leave Keith’s mouth. It—Shiro made him so _happy_. Uncomfortable at times with how much didn’t really see Keith or Keith’s life, but that…Keith had hoped that would come with time.

But he should’ve known that someone like him never had a chance with Shiro.

“We’re not like that,” he said hollowly, the words tasting like ashes. He’d have to tell Shiro. He’d have to tell Shiro that they were done.

Shiro was going to hate him.

(Although maybe he wasn’t even important enough for Shiro to hate at all.)

“Good,” Sendak said curtly, adjusting his jacket. “At least you have some sense. I’ve wasted enough time here now. There’s a shuttle that you will take. You have an hour to get your things, which I think is more than enough. It takes any longer than that to leave, and you’ll be telling me why.”

With that, he left.

The door shut behind him with a hiss. Keith stared at it long after it was closed, the white surface blurring before his eyes.

He had wanted to stay. He still wanted it. He wanted Shiro, he wanted to be here with someone who he thought he had a chance of being happy with.

He wanted to keep building something he was slowly starting to call home.

“Please,” he whispered.

But as always, there was no one to hear him.

* * *

 

The day started off as it normally did.

Shiro was roused from bed by his alarm, and was motivated enough to go to the gym. It felt like it was going to be a good day. Rehearsal had gone smoothly, Keith’s presence sending little champagne bubbles of happiness fizzing in Shiro’s heart.

But then…

There was a knock on the door just before lunch.

Frowning, Shiro got up from where he’d been lying on his bed, fiddling with his tablet. Who could it be? His band mates always just texted him if they needed him, so…maybe it was Keith.

Slightly hopeful, he opened the door—but was surprised to see Coran there.

“Coran. Did you need something?”

Coran tilted his head, looking slightly concerned. “Do you not realise what day it is today?”

Shiro blinked at him. “Um…I’m sorry?”

“Keith is leaving? Did you have so many things on that it slipped your mind?”

Shiro’s heart stopped. “Wait, what?” Keith was _leaving_? What did—Keith was staying with them. Keith was staying with them for the rest of the tour, unless Coran just meant he was going out…?

Judging by the matching confusion on Coran’s face, it was something much more permanent though. “Yes, his contract expires this week. His employer has been in contact, I—I thought that you knew.”

“No,” Shiro said, concern starting to build on the confusion. “Keith didn’t say anything.” And why hadn’t he?

“Ah, well. I think he’s just preparing one of the teleportation pods, so perhaps you can find him before he leaves.”

Shiro was out the door before Coran had even finished, muttering a quick thanks.

He walked quickly to the pods, worry spurring him on. Even if it was just a temporary trip—and it had to be, Keith wouldn’t just disappear—why hadn’t Keith said anything? They’d just seen each other a few hours ago, and they’d been fine. Unless Shiro had read the situation wrong entirely, they were happy together, and Keith was happy on this ship and with this job. There was probably a perfectly plausible explanation for it.

But even so, why hadn’t Keith told him? He hated to admit it, but beneath the concern was hurt. He thought that they’d built up trust between the two of them, that he’d earned a place by Keith’s side. Why hadn’t he talked to Shiro?

His heart sank when he got to the pods. Keith was there, yes, and he had his belongings with him. Enough to tell Shiro that this wasn’t just a quick visit back to Earth.

“Keith.”

Keith turned around, and when he caught sight of Shiro he looked…hesitant. There was none of his usual excitement at meeting, no smile as there had been just hours ago. What was happening?

“Hey, Shiro.” Keith’s voice was hoarse, and he shifted uncomfortably on his feet. His gaze dropped quickly from Shiro’s, and something tore through Shiro’s heart to see that uncertainty return. He thought that they’d gone beyond that.

But it hurt even more that when he shifted forward to take Keith’s hand, Keith backed away.

“Keith, Coran said—he said you needed to go back to Earth?”

Keith didn’t say anything, but nodded, still staring at the ground.

“And—and when are you going to come back?” Maybe he’d misread the situation. Maybe it was just going to be…

But then Keith shook his head slowly. “I’m going back permanently. I’ve—I’ve got work.”

“But we said you could stay on,” Shiro said, desperation starting to tinge his voice. “You’re staying on for the rest of the tour and—”

“I’ve got work,” Keith repeated, firmer this time. “Sendak’s signed me on for another band, and I haven’t got time for Voltron anymore.”

 _He doesn’t have time for_ you _anymore_.

“Why didn’t you tell me? We can still figure something out, I’m sure Sendak—”

And finally, Keith came to life, anger sparking in his eyes when he looked up. “No, Shiro, we can’t figure anything out.” And of course he didn’t answer Shiro’s first question. “Sendak said he’d _sue_ me if I broke that contract for him.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

Shiro immediately regretted his words; Keith flinched, before the expression on his face hardened. “Well, it’s not like I’ve exactly got enough money to call him out on it.” Keith laughed, hollow. “I haven’t got enough _anything_.”

Shiro wanted so badly to reach for his hand, to tuck his arms around Keith’s waist and just—just protect him. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that you were stupid. But you—you’ve got me,” he said, quiet, fierce, true.

Silence.

Oh.

How it hurt when Keith said nothing.

Shiro took a shuddering breath, the silence screaming at him to move.

“Keith.” His voice was barely a croak, because he knew the weight of this silence. He knew what it meant when someone you loved stood across from you, eyes downcast, silent. “ _Keith_.” It was almost a plea.

It didn’t work.

“Look, Shiro, was—was it going to last anyway?”

Shiro’s heart stopped. “What—what do you mean?”

The way that Keith couldn’t meet his eye tore up Shiro’s heart, and the matter-of-fact way that he spoke just…froze it. Turned his soul to stone, as he listened to Keith burn away something that Shiro thought had been invincible. “You’re the lead singer of the one of the biggest bands in the history of the universe. You’re smart, you’re good with people, you’re a damn talented musician, and—and you can have anyone you want.”

“Keith, I don’t want anyone else,” Shiro said through gritted teeth, heart hurting. “I just want you.”

“But that’s the thing.” And now Keith did look at him, and Shiro knew that look. They had been together for only a few weeks, had known each other less than a year, but Shiro knew that look. That was steely determination and iron-clad ice that Shiro had fallen in love with. “I’m just me.”

“I don’t care,” Shiro said, desperate. It was…it was all crumbling away before him, but he still grasped at the rapidly shifting sands of what he had once thought were brick and metal and solid ground. “You think—you think that matters to me? I want to be dating _you_.”

“You’ll get bored,” Keith said quietly, all soft certainty.

“You can’t decide that for me. If there’s something you need help with, I can help you, okay? It’s not—were you just planning on leaving without a word? That isn’t how I want us to be, Keith, I promise we can work through it.” It wasn’t _working_. Words and his voice, two of the things that Shiro could always rely on to save anything, and it wasn’t working. He could see Keith slipping away with every passing second, every time Keith bit into his bottom lip, every moment that Keith stood so _still_ in front of him. “Keith, _please_.”

But Keith shook his head, and when he looked up—Keith was crying. Keith was crying, and Shiro just wanted to gather him up in his arms because this was so _wrong_. “Shiro, I can’t, okay? I just—I can’t drag you down with me.”

“No, no, no, Keith, you lift me up. Keith, I’m _begging_ you, please don’t go.”

“Sendak is—he’s ruthless when it comes to his business. I stay, he comes after me _and_ you. You guys—” Keith broke off, clenched his eyes shut before opening them again. “You guys _just_ started taking off big time. Can you look at me and tell me you’d be okay throwing all of it away, letting Lance, Allura, Pidge, everyone take the fall for me?”

“I don’t care,” Shiro said, frantic. “Keith, I don’t care, I don’t care.”

“You think that, Shiro,” Keith said, and rage fired beneath Shiro’s terror. “You think that, but in a year, or two—hell, even _now_ you know what the hell this all comes with—”

“You can’t decide for me!” Shiro cried. There was rage, and grief, and absolute numb _terror_ at the horrific scene that was playing out, uncontrollable, before him. “You can’t _do_ that, Keith! Yes, I’ll go up against Sendak if that’s what it takes to keep you safe and happy. We’re a team, so stop trying to fight everything on your own!”

Keith’s expression had gone blank, tired. “I’ve always done it on my own, Shiro,” he said eventually. “Always. Having you around didn’t change that.”

The grief could have choked him. “You—you said I mattered,” he said, shaking. It sounded _childish_ , as though mere spoken words were enough to create truth. “You said I mattered to you. You told me I made you _happy_.”

“Shiro, you do,” Keith said hoarsely. “More than anyone, but—”

“Then why won’t you let me _help_ you?”

“‘Cause no one ever has, okay?” Keith’s hands were balled into fists at his sides, and his voice was ragged. “What, hell, I’m meant to believe that the front man of the biggest damn band in the universe wants _me_? Wants to, what, spend the rest of his life with me? How dumb would I have to be to believe that?”

Shiro’s breath hitched, and he shook his head. This couldn’t be real. This couldn’t be happening, not with Keith. If Keith was talking like this, how stupid had _Shiro_ been?

And those horrible, horrible words just continued. “It’s some stupid story you hear in the news all the time. Rock star bags one of their crew, and it’s all love and sparkles for what, two months before they break up? Get real, Shiro.” Keith was saying this. Tabloids and journalists and vicious members of the public? All that, Shiro could handle. But hearing this poison spat out in Keith’s voice—the one that Shiro remembered as soft and kind and _fond_ —burned him to nothing.

“What the hell did I ever _do_ to you to make you believe that, Keith?” Shiro shouted, voice breaking. “What the hell did I do? Tell me, actually tell me what I did to screw this up so badly in your eyes and I will damn well _fix_ it, just—”

“You _can’t_ , Shiro! Not everything can be fixed! We’re too different, okay? It’s _me_. I’m…” Keith took a breath, and shook his head. “I’m scattered everywhere, I don’t know _what_ I am, but I’m not what you need right now.”

“That’s my decision, you don’t get to—”

“You need someone whole and loving and supportive and I’m—”

“You are, Keith. All of that.” Shiro clenched a fist, remembered how it felt to have Keith’s hand gentle in his instead of the desperate anger that lined his palm now. “You’ve done so much for me, I’ve never—I’ve never met someone with your passion, or your heart, and you make me want to be better every day.” He gasped for a breath, reaching out. “Please, don’t go.”

“I’m sorry,” Keith said, and he shook with tears. “I’m so sorry. You—you’re the best thing I’ve had, but I was never meant to have you.”

“Keith, wait—”

“I’m sorry, Shiro.” Keith clambered clumsily into the pod, his backpack on his shoulder and tears still streaming down his cheeks.

“Keith, no—” Shiro reached for him, but Keith yanked his hand out of Shiro’s grasp like it was acid. The feeling that burnt Shiro’s lungs felt the same.

Shiro didn’t know what to do.

He opened his mouth, but what more was there to _say_? “Keith?” His voice shook, weak with grief.

But Keith looked away, slamming his hand on the buttons to send him back to Earth.

There was nothing for Shiro to do. “L-look after yourself.”

He’d promised Keith that he’d always be there for him, and now…

Now there was nothing left for Shiro to do, but step away. Step away, hands shaking, heart breaking, and see the hollow look in Keith’s eyes before the pod disappeared.

Leaving him with nothing.


	13. Chapter 13

Shiro threw himself into the show that night.

He hadn’t answered any questions about where Keith was when his band had asked, just said that he’d had work to do. And Shiro had his own work to do, singing his heart out on stage, even if it felt like it had been torn away to nothing.

 

_“You can have anyone you want.”_

Coming off stage, he’d faked smiles and laughter, congratulating his band and his crew as usual. Except this time, he was missing one soft smile and gentle presence.

But he couldn’t think about that.

_“You make me happy.”_

But once everything was done, all his energy left. The horrible grief suddenly hit him, and it was too heavy, too much. He couldn’t be around other people whose lives were still intact and whole, and he’d skipped Hunk’s post-concert food so he could retreat to his room. Yes, it was pathetic, but he couldn’t stand to be around other people if it was only a reminder of the hollow void that Keith had left.

So he’d hidden in his room, hurt and broken, burying himself in his grief.

 

_“Not everything can be fixed!”_

_“You’re my friend.”_

_“I say…yes.”_

_“I’ve always done it on my own, Shiro. Always. Having you around didn’t change that.”_

_“I’m glad you kissed me.”_

 

Memories, good and bad, swirled in a maelstrom, and Shiro let out a choking sob, pressing the already damp blanket against his eyes. Keith had said that he’d mattered. Keith had looked him in the eye, trusting and fond, and told him that he’d changed his life for the better.

Clearly it hadn’t been the case.

It was stupid. Keith had left him; why should he care about Keith’s feelings? But even so, Shiro couldn’t forget the terrified look in Keith’s eyes. How he’d spoken as though he had no other choice but to leave (but it didn’t hurt any less that he’d _still left_ ), and the tears that had streamed down his cheeks as he’d turned away. He had to be hurting now, and Shiro ached to comfort him.

Maybe…maybe he could ask Coran to look into their dealings with Sendak. Maybe…

Maybe he could get Keith back.

But that hope was so distant, it only hurt more. Who was he kidding? Keith had made himself clear. Keith had said that they’d break up anyway, so why was Shiro still chasing him?

There was a knock on his bedroom door, but Shiro ignored it, burying himself deeper into his blanket. He didn’t want to see _anyone_ right now. He just wanted to be alone, in the dark, hidden away from a world where Keith was no longer waiting for him.

“Shiro?” Allura’s voice was muffled through the door, and laced with concern. He’d skipped lunch earlier, stumbling back to his room after staring dumbly at the spot where Keith had been, for what felt like hours. He’d barely had any dinner either, and now that he’d passed supper as well, it had only been a matter of time before someone had come looking for him. But he didn’t want to talk to _anyone_ right now.

Shiro muffled another sob, remembering when he’d stumbled out the door to find Keith there once. Maybe Allura would think that he was asleep. Maybe she’d just leave him alone to hide.

“Shiro?” No such luck. Her voice was softer this time, still worried. When Shiro didn’t reply, she sighed. “I’m going to come inside now, okay?”

No. She couldn’t see him like this. “It’s fine, Allura,” Shiro said, voice clogged up. “I’m just tired.”

“You skipped lunch and dinner. You need to eat. Hunk’s made food.”

“I’m…not feeling well.”

A moment of silence, but her next words cracked his heart in two all over again. “Coran said Keith left.”

Shiro couldn’t stop the tears that began afresh, pressing his blanket against his eyes as though the force of it could stop his crying, heal his heartbreak. He didn’t want to think about Keith leaving. He didn’t want to think about how happy they’d been together for three, stupid, naïve weeks. He didn’t want to think about _Keith_ , but when he’d spent almost the entire year doing just that, it wasn’t that easy to go back.

The door slid open, but Allura’s footsteps paused before she moved to Shiro, sitting next to him on his bed. Her fingers slid into his hair, and he let out a harsh sob.

“Your friends are with you, Shiro,” she said quietly. “I’m here if you need me.”

And now that she was here, the dam broke. “He _left_. He went back to Earth, and he said that we were gonna break up anyway, and that I—I was just kidding myself to think that we’d work out.” Shiro shook his head, curling in on himself. Why had he been so stupid?

Allura rubbed circles in his back, hushing him. “It’s okay, you can let it out.”

Shiro rolled over, staring hopelessly at her. “Lura, I—I love him.” He felt his heart break for the thousandth time today at the admission. He’d wanted to tell Keith. He’d slowly come to the realisation, and he’d wanted to tell Keith. “I love him. I’m in love with him, but he—he doesn’t want m-me _back_.”

And then the tears came again, and Allura gathered him up in her arms while he sobbed into her shoulder, shaking and breaking apart. He’d been dreaming of going home, taking Keith on their first date, of welcoming the new year soon, of introducing him to his dad. He’d been doing all of that, and Keith had been preparing to bury them before they even bloomed.

“He said we were gonna b-break up anyway,” Shiro said, hiccupping. Great. Now he couldn’t even talk properly. “He s-said that he had to go back to Earth, but when I said I’d help him he said h-he—” Actually, Keith hadn’t said anything. But that had spoken enough about where Keith wanted Shiro in his life.

“Help him?” Allura stroked his hair gently, holding him close. “What are you talking about?”

“I—he wasn’t—he d-didn’t say much about it. But he said that h-he had another contract, or his—his boss wanted him to work for someone else.” He coughed, trying to clear his throat as the tears gradually slowed. The hiccups were still there, but he tried his best to bite them down. “Said his boss—the guy from the studio, Sendak—w-would sue him if he didn’t go back.” Fresh tears started, and he clung tighter. “But why did that mean he had to leave _me_?”

“I’m sorry.” Allura held him close, soothing him, and he took solace in her presence. They’d been through thick and thin together, and he knew he could rely on her. The way he’d thought he’d been able to rely on Keith. “I’m sorry, Shiro.”

“I begged him to stay,” Shiro said hoarsely. His throat felt raw from crying, and he had anoter gig tomorrow. Great. “I actually begged him. It was pathetic, but it still didn’t work.” He looked at Allura, pleading. “Nothing worked. He wouldn’t stay for me, and I thought—”

He’d thought Keith had started to love him. He’d thought that Keith had seen something worthy of loving, worthy of treasuring. But apparently not.

“I’m sorry,” Allura said quietly. “I’m really sorry, Shiro. I thought—I thought the two of you were starting to build something good as well. You weren’t foolish for seeing it, Shiro. Everyone did.”

“Then why did he go?” Shiro asked, desperate. “If he wanted me that badly, how could he _leave_?”

Allura sighed, and sat down next to him, taking his hand. “You’re hurt, and you’re not thinking clearly. But you said that someone wanted to hurt him?”

Shiro nodded. She was right; he wasn’t thinking clearly. He _couldn’t_. “He said—he said Sendak was threatening him or something horrible. I’ve told—no, I haven’t.” He swallowed. “I was thinking of getting Coran to review all our dealings with him, but I—I forgot.”

“That’s an excellent plan,” Allura said, and she squeezed his hand. “There’s something else going on in his life, and Shiro, you were caught in the crossfire. You still have your family with you, Shiro. We can figure this out, and I’m—I’m certain that Keith will want to work it out with you, too.”

But what if he didn’t?

 _“How dumb would I have to be to believe that?_ ”

Shiro had believed. Shiro had believed wholeheartedly in what they’d begun to build, before it’d been torn away from him.

“It wasn’t all Sendak, Allura,” Shiro said, swiping his hand across his eyes. “He said—he said that we’d break up eventually anyway. Said s-someone like me shouldn’t be dating someone like him. What if he _doesn’t_ want me back?”

“One step at a time, Takashi.” Allura rubbed the back of his hand comfortingly. “One step at a time. As I said, Keith’s judgment would have been impeded by Sendak’s threat. You said he was scared?”

Though it made his heart ache all over again, Shiro thought back to Keith’s fearful expression as he’d explained. “Terrified.”

“Exactly. Scared, stressed, and otherwise alone, by the sounds of it. I don’t believe he could stay away for long, if those factors weren’t present.” She smiled at him, kind yet iron strong. “So let’s get back to Earth, and work things out.”

Shiro shook his head. “Lura, we can’t just abandon the tour and get back to Earth.”

“It’ll take at least several days for us to gather information. And we have two days free after these shows before we have to head to our Altean performances. That’s ample time.”

Shiro hesitated, before looking at her. He didn’t know if it was hope or grief which made his heart ache. “Do you really think he’ll want to…talk?”

 

Allura nodded. “I believe so. After we find out what’s happening with Sendak.”

Again his will, Shiro felt hope begin to bloom beneath all the dust and rubble of his grief. Maybe…maybe…

_Was it going to last anyway?_

“I’m scared,” Shiro said, voice rough. “I’m terrified he won’t—what if he doesn’t want me…?”

But Allura squeezed him around the waist. “One step at a time, Shiro. Okay?”

Shiro looked into her eyes, and tried to believe her. Tried to find his belief in _Keith_ again, after it had been torn down and burnt to nothing.

“Okay,” he said quietly, grief drowning his lungs.

* * *

 On the first day, Keith didn’t think. He arrived back on Earth, heading to the studio immediately. But once he arrived, Sendak hardly even paid him any attention, just nodding once when Keith walked in the front doors.

“I’m glad you came to your senses,” was all he said, before he headed off into a meeting.

Keith? Keith wasn’t sure he had. His senses were still screaming at him to go back to the ship, go back to being somewhere where he was valued and loved. The studio seemed so horribly normal after being in space for so many months. People came and went, impermanent, never sparing Keith a second glance, and he missed…

He missed _belonging_.

Belonging by Shiro’s side, with Shiro’s hand in his. They hadn’t had much time together so it was absolutely stupid, but he missed the way that Shiro would hold him, missed the steady way Shiro would be warm and present beside him.

And he missed the Castle. Missed Lance and Pidge bickering, Allura’s teasing, Hunk’s steady support and gentle ribbing. He missed sliding into that dynamic and knowing that wherever he went, there would be someone to greet him with a smile and a conversation.

The studio felt too quiet now. Full of strangers he didn’t want to talk to, not anymore. The void in his heart, the empty quiet that he’d always felt had returned. It _had_ been filled back on that ship, and Keith didn’t know how anything would ever come close to the way Shiro had looked at him with stars in his eyes and held him like he was the most precious thing in the world.

On the first day, he went back to an apartment that had been empty for months, one that he could never properly call home again. Not when home was galaxies away, and Keith had tossed it away to the empty night sky.

 

On the second day, Sendak refused to tell him when his new job was starting.

“You’ll know when you need to know,” he said.

Beneath the numb hurt and loss (Shiro hated him; he’d never talk to Keith again), Keith felt the beginnings of anger beginning to boil. _Why did you bring me here then?_ But he knew it was useless against Sendak. Reasoning and cajoling worked much better, so he swallowed his pride—pushed it deep down, to where there was sickening grief and his endless heartache—and nodded.

“Okay.” He forced his voice to stay steady. “Just…let me know?”

Sendak grunted, and Keith left his office.

He spent the rest of the day organising their ages old music library. Anything to stop him from thinking. Anything to keep him from remembering.

_Shiro’s eyes warm on his, Shiro’s arm around him. Shiro looking at him as though he was the world._

_“You were amazing, Keith.”_

 

On the third day, Keith made the mistake of opening up the Voltron fan page.

He was tucked up in bed at night, tablet in hand, and on impulse he’d typed the address in. A video popped up immediately, posted barely hours ago. The frozen preview was nothing more than a black box speckled with the white lights of the crowd, but Keith’s heart still pounded as he hovered over the play button.

If he clicked it, he would get to see Shiro again. Get to hear him again, and god Keith _missed_ him. He missed his voice, his warmth, his gentle smiles. How was he going? Did he miss Keith the way that Keith missed him, the way that Keith didn’t _deserve_ to miss him? Or was he all right, moving on with life the way that Keith suspected he would be able to, now that he didn’t have Keith weighing him down?

Dread filled him, but…

It had been so long. So many days, after seeing Shiro constantly; he had to know.

Steeling himself, he clicked before he could back out.

The video started, filling Keith’s empty room with sound.

“Thank you everyone,” Shiro’s voice rang out.

Shiro’s face filled the screen. He smiled, the way he always did when he was on stage, and Keith’s heart ached. Shiro was okay. Shiro was smiling, the way he ought to be, which meant…

Which meant he didn’t need Keith there to be happy.

A tear fell onto the tablet.

Sendak had been right. _Keith_ had been right. He’d known, hadn’t he? He’d known that Shiro was famous, that Shiro had a thousand other people and things to occupy his time and attention. He hadn’t needed Keith to fill a void the way that Keith had always craved affection. He hadn’t needed— _didn’t_ need—Keith to make his life something worth living for.

But when he threw the tablet aside, cutting Shiro’s voice off abruptly, somewhere deep down Keith still stupidly, stupidly hoped.

 

On the fourth day, Sendak was out of town.

When the receptionist told him so, Keith frowned. “D’you know when he’ll be back?”

“Not until Thursday,” she told him, and Keith only grew more puzzled. That was another five days away; his job was meant to be urgent.

“He said I’ve got a job lined up; do you know anything about that?”

“Let me have a look…” Her eyes flicked back to her computer for a brief moment, and Keith waited patiently as she scrolled. “Ah, he’s got you down for Vrepit Sal. I don’t have a date though,” she finished apologetically.

“That’s all right.” Keith bit his lip. “I’ll check it out myself. Thanks.”

When he went home that night, he spent hours researching Vrepit Sal extensively. At first, it was to take his mind off Shiro. To take his mind off thinking about how he’d daydreamed about one day waking up next to him, taking him out to a nice dinner and a movie, showing him his favourite spots in the nearby park.

But as the night wore on and he got deeper into his searches, Keith actually did forget about Shiro momentarily (although the ache always, always stayed), and his confusion grew.

 

On the fifth day, Keith only grew more confused.

Sendak wouldn’t be in this afternoon either, so Keith had stayed home.

He’d made some phone calls. He’d messaged a few people who he knew on the Vrepit Sal team, including one of their most trusted backup singers. Years and years of running errands and staying in the background of Sendak’s studio meant he knew people, and although many of the conversations were awkward, they were necessary. Because from it all, Keith found out one important detail:

Vrepit Sal was not planning to tour.

 

On the sixth day, Keith slipped into Sendak’s office early in the morning, when no one was around to see him. The receptionist hadn’t arrived yet, so he let himself in, and quickly pinched the key from her desk so he could get into Sendaks’s office.

His computer was locked, but he’d needed Keith to print things many times over the years, and thankfully his password hadn’t changed. Now all Keith had to do was to dig, and see exactly what Sendak had arranged.

As the clock ticked on and Keith looked through many different records—contracts, emails, letters—he started to realise two things.

The first: Sendak was in trouble. People were chasing him for money, employees were resigning left, right, and centre, and profits were dwindling.

And the second was what he found about himself:

Nothing.

Nothing, nothing, nothing on Sendak’s computer to do with Vrepit Sal. No communications, or files saved, or _anything_ to show that he needed Keith. And Keith searched desperately; Sendak had never lied to him like this before, but as he got deeper and deeper, he began to realise that there was no job lined up for him. No urgent matter which meant he had to be back on Earth.

Which meant he _hadn’t_.

Sendak had pulled Keith away from Voltron for this. He’d pulled Keith away from somewhere where he was _happy_ and loved, just to have him back on Earth.

Keith sat back, staring at the computer screen. He could’ve _stayed_. He could’ve stayed with Shiro, and maybe…

Maybe they could’ve worked it out, before Keith had run away. Now there was no chance.

Regroup. He could do that, regroup, figure out what Sendak wanted. Although was it even worth asking? Was there anything worth staying for here? Steady employment, but was it really worth it when Sendak barely gave him enough to make rent, and it was only going to get worse with Sendak’s finances.

And…he couldn’t do this anymore. He couldn’t stay here, with the reminder that he could’ve been _happy_ somewhere. He didn’t have much saved up, but he’d make do. He’d made do for twenty odd years now; he could scrape by with odd jobs, anything to get out of here. Here he was nothing. Out there, he was nothing either, but at least if he left, he’d be free to live. With the threat of a lawsuit gone, there was nothing to keep Keith staying. Not when he knew that life could be better than this.

His heart twisted when he thought about how he’d ruined his chances with Shiro. But Shiro had changed his life either way, and had shown him that there was something better. That people could love and care for Keith, and Keith hoped that one day he would start to deserve it again, after what he’d put Shiro through.

The light turned on.

Keith looked up, and froze in horror when he saw Sendak in the doorway.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Sendak growled. He looked furious, and when he strode over to Keith, Keith leapt from the chair, backing up against the wall.

“Nothing, I was just—”

“Nothing?” Sendak spat, advancing. “Nothing, and I find you snooping around in my office doing who knows—”

“You lied to me,” Keith interrupted, heart pounding. “No one knew anything about my new gig, so I thought I’d check it out and see what was happening, but—but you _lied_ to me.”

For a moment, Sendak froze, and Keith felt vicious satisfaction and foolish hope that maybe, _finally_ he’d gotten through. But then Sendak merely sighed, rubbing at his temple.

“I did it for your own good.”

“You lied to me!” Keith said, voice cracking with grief. “You said—you told me to come back here! I was happy with them, I wanted to be there!”

“I was doing you a _favour_ ,” Sendak growled. “You were clearly out of your depth. Rehearsing with the band? Playing shows? They’d eat you alive before you even knew what was happening.”

Keith clenched his fists. “No, you’re the one who’s stopped me from living my life.”

“I _gave_ you everything, and you should be grateful for it.”

“I am, I’m glad you took me in, but that doesn’t make everything you’ve done now okay!” Keith was burning with anger. Yes, Sendak had given him a home, sheltered him for a few years, given him a job for so many more. But he couldn’t live like this anymore. “I was happy for once and you ripped me away from it!”

“You were _dreaming_ if you think that you would’ve survived in that world! You honestly thought Voltron would’ve wanted you to stay? Or was it Shirogane? Did you think that _he’d_ want you?”

“I—no. Yes.” Shiro had wanted him. Keith had seen it, time and time again. Shiro had gone out of his way to show it, time and time again, and Keith had thrown it away. “I don’t know! But you didn’t give me a _choice_. I could’ve stayed, I could’ve been someone there.”

“You were kidding yourself. You’re still being foolish. They did not _want you_ , and Shirogane would’ve discarded you like trash once he was done with you.”

Keith went to protest, but then the door slammed open, and Keith whirled around. Who…?

“I think I’m the one who should be deciding that.”

And then Shiro walked in, his band behind him, fire in his eyes.


	14. Chapter 14

A black four-wheel drive pulled up in front of Sendak’s studio in the morning. The sun wast just peeking over the horizon, almost too bright for what was just past nine o’clock in the winter. A sleepy peace rested over the street, and there were only two other cars parked in the staff area, as well as a shiny red bike.

Looking out the window of the car, Shiro wondered what Keith drove.

A hand laid over his, and he glanced next to him to see Pidge watching him, a concerned smile on her face.

“You okay?” she asked quietly.

“Yeah,” he said, although he hadn’t really felt okay since Keith had left. He’d managed to scrounge together some vague form of hope over the past few days, but nervousness and fear still gnawed at his stomach. This was all for Keith, but what if it didn't work? Shiro would be left with the horrible reality of Keith having left, of Keith not wanting him. He didn’t know how he’d move on. “We’ve got good info,” he said firmly, willing himself to stay steady. “I trust you.”

Pidge’s digging—although at times a little morally grey—had turned up a slew of financial troubles, broken contracts, and all in all, the picture of a struggling business. Shiro didn’t know how Keith fit into the picture, but if Sendak was struggling the way they thought, then he didn’t have the resources to be involved in law suits with anyone, even someone with little support or stable income. Calling Sendak out on his bluff would hopefully give Keith some leverage.

And then…well, Shiro would figure out whether or not Keith wanted him after all that.

Although he had no idea where he would actually _find_ Keith after all this was done. But that could wait until later; the important thing here was to set Sendak straight. Sendak had a hold on Keith. Sendak was the one thing keeping Keith away from him, and even if Shiro had no idea where he might find Keith, this would be the place to start.

That, and there was foolish hope that maybe he’d run into Keith here.

“Let’s get going then,” Lance said from the back, uncharacteristically quiet. “My legs are starting to get cramped back here.”

Shiro laughed, glancing back behind him. Even with all the fatigue and worry—thinking about his heartbreak constantly while doing shows had been draining—he managed a fond smile. “All right, all right. Let’s go then.”

Taking a deep breath, he stepped outside into the chill morning air. His friends assembled quickly behind him, Hunk, Coran, and the rest of his band with him.

“Time to uncover the worms, eh?” Coran said, striding ahead of them.

Shiro blinked, looking at Allura. “I haven’t heard that one before.” There had been many Altean idioms that he’d come across over the years, but that one was new.

Allura smiled fondly at Coran’s retreating back, not even bothering to try match his brisk pace. “To see what unexpected rewards might lie underneath the surface,” she explained. “Like worms.”

“How are worms rewards?”

“They are to birds.”

“Right…” Shiro couldn’t really argue with that one, nor did he want to right now. Simply shrugging, he followed the rest of them inside the studio.

As expected, it was quiet inside, some soft jazz playing quietly over the speakers in the foyer. Shiro looked around before approaching the reception area, where there was a bright-eyed girl peering curiously over at them.

“Hi there,” Shiro said, trying to plaster on his politest smile despite how bone weary he felt.

“Good morning,” the girl said, looking a little cautious. “How may I help you?”

“I’m here to see Sendak,” Shiro said, as firmly as he could. He hadn’t thought that Sendak would be allowing an appointment, so surprise was probably the best approach.

The receptionist frowned. “Sendak’s out of town today, I’m not sure he would’ve booked in anyone…”

“You’re not sure?” Pidge piped up from behind Shiro. “If he’s away, why aren’t you sure?”

The girl frowned. “Well, I mean, I’m not his secretary. I don’t know all of his personal appointments.”

“Of course,” Shiro said smoothly. Pidge seemed to be on to something here, but needling the girl probably wasn’t going to get the result they wanted. “I’m sorry, she didn’t mean anything by it. But I would really appreciate it if you could help us.” He gave his most charming smile, one that he used to calm ladies in nursing homes and misdirect journalists who asked too many questions. It was a winning one, he knew, and he just hoped that his fatigue didn’t ruin its effectiveness.

Apparently, it didn’t. The receptionist smiled back at him, blushing slightly. Shiro felt a little bad, but only a little; there were more important things to worry about now.

“Ah, he said to let everyone know that he’s on a trip, but he actually popped into his office just now.” She smiled prettily, beaming at Shiro. “I can show you where that is if you like.”

“Yes, that’d be…”

Indistinct shouting came from down the hall, and Shiro glanced over. “…That’d be appreciated,” he finished. “Where did you say it was?”

The receptionist’s eyes had slid over to the hallway as well, and now she hesitated. “Um, maybe if you just…wait a moment, I’ll see if I can get him for you.”

That answered that then. “I would like to see him as soon as possible,” Shiro said politely. “If we could.”

“Of course.” The girl smiled again, sliding out of her seat. “I’ll just go find him for you, why don’t you all take a seat?”

Shiro was about to accept, when he heard more shouting. A deep, threatening bass, and then a higher voice. One he recognised; one that was yelling in distress, and anger.

Keith.

“That won’t be necessary; I think I can find the way myself.” Shiro started to stride in the direction of the hall, the shouting getting louder.

“I think he’s with someone right now, maybe it’d be best to just wait.”

“No,” Shiro said. Keith’s voice was getting closer, and he sounded upset. Angry. There was nothing that would keep Shiro away when he knew that Keith was here and in need of help.

“I think—”

“Sorry, ma’am, I think Shiro’s made up his mind,” Shiro heard Hunk say apologetically. “What about you and me talk about how scary you find him and how much of a bully he is, so that your boss can’t blame you for it?”

“But it’s not…”

Their voices faded away, and Shiro was glad that Hunk was providing a necessary distraction. He couldn’t deal with anyone else right now, not when he could hear Keith so close, sounding so upset.

Shiro’s heart ached when he heard Keith shout suddenly, both from how distraught he sounded, and the words.

“I was happy for once and you ripped me away from it!”

Shiro sped up, his heart pounding too hard to catch Sendak’s reply properly, only hearing his name. The voices were coming from behind a door, and Shiro rushed forward, his friends on his heels, the shouts still echoing in the hall.

He raised his hand to knock, before shaking his head. What the hell was he doing? Now wasn’t the time to be polite. He went to shove it open, catching Sendak’s next words clearly.

“Shirogane would’ve discarded you like trash once he was done with you.”

Shiro’s blood boiled. That wasn’t who he was. He wouldn’t have done that— _had_ never done that—least of all to Keith. Rage fired up to hear some complete stranger talk about him as though he was callous and cold, when he’d worked so hard all his life to be anything _but_.

Fury made him slam the door open harder than he’d intended.

“I think I’m the one who should be deciding that,” he said coldly, the shadows of grief and rage weighing on his words.

His eyes fell to Keith immediately, who was standing frozen, looking absolutely shocked that Shiro was there. The first thing he noticed was that Keith looked tired, paler than he normally was, with shadows under his eyes. The second thing Shiro noticed about him was that Keith was upset, with the way his fists were clenched by his side and his mouth was trembling.

He ached to hold him. _I want you to be happy_ , Shiro thought. _I hate seeing you hurt_.

Keith stared, his eyes drifting over the band. “Shiro?” he said disbelievingly. “Lance, Allura, what—what are you guys _doing_ here?”

“A very good question,” Sendak said.

Shiro almost raised an eyebrow at Sendak. Were they really playing this game? “We wanted to clear up some things about Keith’s employment,” he said. “We thought you might be able to provide some answers.”

“Of course,” Sendak said smoothly. He’d slipped right back into business all too easily, and you might not have known that he’d just been screaming vitriol at Keith moments ago. The only indication was the fact that Keith still stood there, shaking like a leaf. “My morning is a little occupied today though, so maybe we can better organise a time that would be more—”

But Shiro shook his head. “This can’t wait,” he said. “We need Keith back on board with us immediately.”

Sendak frowned. “I’m afraid that’s not possible,” he said, and he almost sounded apologetic. “Our studio has arranged for him to work with another tour very soon. It would be unconscionable for me to refuse.”

 _That wasn’t what you told him. You said you’d ruin him_. “I’m sure something else could be arranged. Surely—”

“I haven’t got _anything_ lined up,” Keith said, so quietly Shiro almost missed it.

But Shiro had spent so many, many months always looking for Keith, keeping an eye out for him, that he turned to him immediately. “Wait, what?”

Keith still wasn’t looking at him, his gaze on Sendak instead. “I’ve looked. You’ve got nothing about me being anywhere other than with Voltron. You’ve barely got _any_ gigs lined up anyway, let alone any that I need to be working on urgently. So I’m asking again, why am I back here?”

“I told you that I needed you here, so here’s where you’ll be,” Sendak snapped. “I am negotiating contracts for you to get work, so if you had thought this through at all—”

“He needs you back ‘cause he’s running out of people,” Pidge piped up, sounding a little more excited than was probably appropriate. “The company’s bleeding money ‘cause no one wants to work here. Working with someone who’s being investigated for money laundering and embezzlement isn’t a good look, after all.”

“Wait, _what_?” Shiro turned to her. That was the first _he’d_ heard of that; all Pidge had told him a few days ago was that Sendak was in financial trouble.

Sendak looked equally stunned, before he drew himself up to his full height. “I beg your pardon?”

“And you’re not getting it,” Pidge said with a grin. “Police knocking on your door, questioning your employees? No wonder people are bailing.”

“That has _nothing_ to do with this; I’m innocent, and that is completely irrelevant to Keith’s employment. I will ruin you if you go any further.”

“You can’t afford to,” Shiro said, glancing at Keith. “Even if your tour contract for him does exist, he’s free to do what he wants. Good luck getting together the funds for a law suit.”

“He wouldn’t _dare_ to—”

“And,” Shiro continued. “If you don’t leave him alone, then you’ll be answering a letter from Voltron’s lawyers.”

“What for, boy? You think I’m afraid of that?”

“Keith’s contract still had five days to run when he left,” Shiro said. He _hated_ using Keith like this, like a bargaining chip. But it was the only way to shake Sendak off, and maybe Keith would give him time to apologise for it later. “You induced and coerced him to break his contract for services with us. That’s enough for us to get something started up, I think, and again I’m not sure you have the time or the money to be fighting off something like this.”

There was a long silence. Shiro didn’t dare look at Keith, didn’t want to know what expression he would see on Keith’s face. Instead, he kept his eyes on Sendak, trying to stay calm as he watched fear, anger, and utter humiliation cross the other man’s face.

When Sendak turned to Keith, Shiro tensed. But Sendak didn’t move to do anything, only spoke. “Know that if you leave, you’re never welcome back here.”

Shiro finally let himself look to Keith, praying that Keith would come with them. Keith was silent for a long moment, his eyes on Sendak’s. “I guess this is it then,” Keith said eventually, and the chains around Shiro’s heart—rusted and weighing him down—finally seemed to loosen.

Sendak still looked furious, directing his glare at all of them. “Get out of my office,” he spat. “And don’t you ever contact me again.”

Shiro nodded. “We won’t need to deal with you again. Thank you for your time.” Tilting his head towards the door, he motioned for the others to leave.

Keith was the last to do so, looking back at Sendak, who was glaring at him.

“Get _out_.”

Yet Keith still hesitated, looking at Shiro helplessly, before letting his gaze slide to the floor. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“ _Out_.”

“C’mon, Keith,” Shiro said quietly. Where he might’ve pressed his hand gently to Keith’s back before, he didn’t, instead simply holding the door open for him. As Keith passed through the door, Shiro caught the slightest hint of Keith’s scent, and Shiro’s heart ached with how much he missed him.

They walked wordlessly back through the foyer, the silence far too heavy between them. It only broke when they exited the building to the cheers and whooping of the others who were waiting for them.

“Keith, it’s good to have you back, buddy!”

“Shiro really showed him, didn’t he?”

Keith mustered up the tiniest smile for them, looking between the five of them. But of course, Shiro thought bitterly, he didn’t smile for Shiro.

“Thanks for um, showing up.”

“Of course, my boy! Now that all that mess is cleared up, we would love to have you rejoin for the final leg of the tour!” Coran said, slinging his arm around Keith’s shoulders. It hurt, a little, to see that Keith didn’t shy away from the touch, when the last time Shiro touched him Keith had only pulled away. But that was neither here nor there.

“Ah, I’ll…” Keith’s eyes drifted to Shiro, before he looked away again. “I’ll think about it. I think I need to get some stuff sorted first.”

That was his cue, he supposed. Shiro cleared his throat. “Keith…can we talk?” The words scraped out of his throat, but he stood his ground. This was worth it. Keith was worth it, and Shiro would never forgive himself if he didn’t at least try here. Even if he was terrified of rejection, even if he ran the risk that Keith didn’t want him back.

But when Keith nodded—hesitantly, but the motion was still there—Shiro let himself hope. Keith slid away from Coran’s hold as they approached the car, looking hesitantly between the rest of them and Shiro.

“You guys go ahead,” Shiro said. “I’ll get us a cab.”

The others looked a little reluctant to leave, but they all gave encouraging smiles and quiet goodbyes as they piled into the car. Shiro watched them drive away, too aware of Keith’s presence next to him as the car zoomed away, leaving the street to its previous quiet.

And then, finally, they were alone.

* * *

 

In the past handful of horrible days, Shiro had only wanted one thing: to see Keith. To be able to get in contact somehow, to convince him that Shiro loved him, to beg him to stay. All he’d wanted was for another chance, to have another shot.

But now that Keith was here in front of him, as beautiful and as unreachable as ever, Shiro didn’t know what to do.

“I’m sorry about Sendak,” he said quietly. Although it’d clearly been an unpleasant situation, Keith had seemed reluctant to leave. Regardless of everything that had happened, the few times Keith had talked about Sendak, he’d sounded like he’d been a big part of Keith’s life. It made sense.

Keith just shrugged. “It’s okay. It—I think it probably had to happen. Once I found out that he’d lied about everything, well…I was planning on leaving today anyway.”

“Leaving?”

“Not working for him anymore,” Keith clarified.

Shiro took a deep breath. “Would you have come back? Do you still want to come back?”

Keith hesitated. “I wasn’t thinking about it.” Then he paused, before his shoulders slumped. “Well, I was just…unsure if you’d _want_ me back.”

Shiro knew he didn’t just mean the band. “I want you back,” he said quietly, his heart aching at the confession. “If…if you still want to.”

When Keith didn’t say anything, Shiro’s heart clenched from fear again. “Keith?”

“It’s…hard.”

“Talk to me?” he pleaded. “I can’t—I can’t know what you’re thinking. Please talk to me.”

Keith sighed, and looked up at Shiro for a brief moment, his eyes filled with hurt. “I—I did mean some of what I said.” His gaze dropped from Shiro’s, and Shiro wished he didn’t have to look so hurt. But they needed to talk about this. It was important, and both of them needed to confront their fears and their pain so that they might get a proper shot at making this work. “I _am_ scared, Shiro. You’re important and famous and your life is totally different from mine. I’m scared that it means we can’t…work.”

“It can. We’ll work on it,” Shiro said quietly, but fierce. “Together. If you promise to tell me what you need, I promise to do my best to give it to you.”

Keith still hesitated, and Shiro took the chance to step forward and reach for his hand. When he didn’t draw away, Shiro hoped it was a good sign. He laced their fingers together, squeezing gently. “I know that you and I have very different lives. _I_ remember my life being very different, too. But—we’re still people, right? I want all of those normal, boring, boyfriend things. I want to hold your hand. I want to kiss you.” Shiro blinked, his eyes prickling. He remembered when Keith had walked out on him, and all those simple dreams he’d watched shatter before his eyes. “I want to be able to see you smile, and make you laugh. I just want to be with you, Keith.”

Keith looked up at him, and Shiro…

Shiro thought he saw another chance there.

“Do you still want to be with me?” Shiro asked, hoping beyond hope for the answer he wanted.

This time, there was no hesitation. There was still fear in Keith’s eyes, but when he nodded, it was firm. And when he spoke, the words finally started to patch up the cracks that had torn through Shiro’s heart.

“Yeah,” Keith said, voice hoarse but saying all that Shiro wanted to hear. “Yeah. I do want you.”

Shiro let out a shuddering breath, and pulled Keith close, overcome. “That’s all I need then.” He closed his eyes, taking comfort from the way that Keith finally, _finally_ wrapped his arms around him and held him tight.

“Shiro, I—I’m sorry.”

Shiro pressed his cheek against Keith’s hair. “It’s—it’s okay.”

“…Are you angry?”

Shiro swallowed, working past the lump in his throat. “No,” he said slowly. “But I can’t say that it—it didn’t hurt. I get why you did what you did, and said what you said.” He drew back so he could look Keith in the eye, and hopefully make him realise that just because Shiro was hurt, it didn’t mean that he hated him. “I understand at least a part of it. And that’s…I guess that’s the problem.”

Keith reached down to squeeze his hand. “What do you mean?”

Shiro hesitated, before nudging Keith in the direction of the park next to the studio. “Let’s find somewhere to sit down and talk?”

It was Keith who slipped his hand into Shiro’s, squeezing gently, before they headed off. They walked in expectant silence, hand in shaking hand, and when they reached the park, finding a bench to sit on, Shiro was relieved that Keith didn’t let go. Whatever it was that they needed to work through, at least Keith’s hand would stay in his.

They sat, still hesitant, Keith staring at his lap in silence. Shiro stroked his thumb over the back of Keith’s hand. If they were going to talk, he was probably going to need to be the one starting it.

“Well.” He cleared his throat. Might as well just dive head first. “I know you have things you’re uncomfortable or insecure about, and I don’t blame you for that,” Shiro began slowly. “Please don’t think I do. But it’s just…I can’t read your mind all the time, and sometimes things that are bothering you just aren’t immediately apparent to me. Like all that stuff you told me before you left.”

“I’m sorry,” Keith whispered, but Shiro shook his head.

“I’m not—I’m not blaming you.” Shiro swallowed, wishing his heart would stop clenching. “But it—it did hurt, ‘cause it came out of nowhere, and I thought I’d been a pretty good boyfriend until I realised I wasn’t giving you what you needed.”

“You’re a great boyfriend,” Keith said. “Anyone would be lucky to have you.”

Slowly, so that Keith could see exactly what he was doing, Shiro lifted his hand to gently brush Keith’s bangs away from his face. “But there’s only one person I want,” he said quietly. “And I need to be the best thing I can for him. If he still wants to stay with me.”

Keith leaned into the touch, closing his eyes. Maybe it made it easier for him to tell Shiro what was on his mind if he didn’t have to see Shiro, because then Keith started talking. “I do want to be with you, it’s just hard to see how we’re gonna work out. You’re rich and famous, and I scrape by on rent every month and have a job that involves me lifting boxes half the time.”

“I wasn’t always rich and famous, Keith,” Shiro reminded him. “And even after everything, I’m still just a person. I’m still just another person, who wants what anyone else would want from a relationship.”

“What if I can’t give you what you want?” Keith asked quietly, and he opened his eyes, looking scared and sad. “What if I’m not enough?”

Shiro swallowed. “I guess that’s the risk we take. Both of us. I’m not sure I can be everything you need either but I want to try.” He stroked Keith’s cheek, heart beating strong when Keith laid his hand over his own. “When we were back in the Castle, these things didn’t stop you. We—we were good, for a few weeks. How can I make you feel like that again?”

Keith shuffled closer, running his fingertips gently down Shiro’s arm. “I guess I was caught up in everything. In the tour, in you, and I felt comfortable going for something that I wanted for the first time in my life. It was kinda ‘cause I knew that I’d have to come back eventually that I just…went for it.”

Despite everything, Shiro had to smile at that. “You knew you were going to break up with me so you dated me?”

Keith looked alarmed. “No! No, that’s not what I wanted to—”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, I’m just teasing.” Shiro squeezed his hand. “Sorry.”

Keith hesitated before squeezing back. “It’s okay.” Keith fiddled with the hem of his shirt, though he stayed quiet. But he looked like he wanted to say something, so Shiro stayed quiet. Patient. He could be patient for Keith.

“I do want to be with you,” Keith said eventually. “I—I like you. A lot.”

Shiro wrapped his arm around Keith’s waist slowly, in case he was uncomfortable. “But…?”

“But…” Keith sighed. “I guess I’m just scared.”

“Me too,” Shiro confessed quietly. “But Keith? If we can just…if we can promise to try.” He swallowed. “If we can both promise to be patient, and try to talk with each other as much as possible…do you want to take a shot at this? Because I know I do. I love being around you, and you make me want to be a better person.”

“You make me happy,” Keith whispered. Then he took a shuddering breath, and when he leaned into Shiro, Shiro heart felt like it was finally blooming after a long winter. What Keith said next only warmed him further. “Let’s…try.”

Shiro couldn’t stop the slow smile that spread across his face. Not that he wanted to. “Let’s try?”

Keith nodded, and he had the smallest smile as well. “Yeah.”

Shiro wrapped his arms tight around Keith, burying his face against his hair, taking in his scent. Keith wanted him. Keith wanted to be with him, and Shiro had spent so many horrible days thinking about a reality where Keith _didn’t_ that now the moment was here, it was too much. It was too much to think that this was real, when he’d been constantly telling himself not to get his hopes up, not to think too far ahead.

“Thank you,” he said, hugging Keith fiercely. It was hard to talk, so he just held Keith tight against him.

Keith’s arms wrapped around his waist too, squeezing tight. “No, I should thank you. For giving me another chance.” He pressed his face to Shiro’s chest. “I’m sorry I messed up.”

Shiro kissed his hair, pressing his cheek against it. “It’s okay. You were hurt and scared. I forgive you. I’m sorry I didn’t look for things that were worrying you.”

“I’m still sorry. And you—you’re fine.” Keith clung to him, his fingers fisted in the back of Shiro’s jacket. “Can…can I kiss you?”

Shiro drew back, cupping Keith’s cheek gently. “You can always kiss me.”

Keith smiled softly. “Thought I’d ask anyway. Just in case.”

Leaning forward, Shiro pressed his forehead to Keith’s. “Thank you for asking. But you’ve got permission to kiss me for as long as you like.”

When Keith spoke, his words moved against Shiro’s lips, breathing his affection into Shiro’s soul. “I guess I should make the most of it then.”

And then Keith’s lips were on his.

It was a little hesitant, but that was okay, because Shiro still didn’t quite feel like they were on steady ground just yet. But with every moment that he had Keith tucked up warm against him, Keith’s lips gentle on his own, Shiro felt the uncertainty and the fear that had plagued him for days slowly retreat.

Keith was gentle with him, his fingers coming up to brush at Shiro’s cheek. So Shiro stayed gentle as well, brushing his own fingers through Keith’s hair, letting Keith guide him.

When they drew back, calm settled over them, and Shiro watched Keith with wonder in his eyes. “I’m so glad I get to be with you,” Shiro said quietly, and Keith smiled softly.

“Yeah. Me too.”

Shiro sighed, still petting Keith’s hair gently. “I’ve got to get back to work, though. Final couple of shows.” Shiro was a little breathless, kissing Keith’s cheek. “So…are you coming back with me then?”

The fear was almost all gone now, but whatever nervousness had remained, it was finally dispelled from the shadows in Shiro’s heart when Keith smiled at him. As had often been the case over the past few months, Keith’s smile made Shiro feel calm and safe. Like he had come home.

And when Keith spoke, Shiro knew he had.

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”


	15. Epilogue

_Fireworks danced across stage, and Lance shouted into a microphone. “Five, four, three, two…!” A rollicking drum beat started up, Lance jumping back with a grin as he kept up the frantic pace on his own guitar, Allura’s whining over the top._

_Then, Shiro walked on stage, and the crowd went wild._

_Singing under the desert sun. Playing gently under mellow twilight of twin moons. Shots of laughter backstage, of fatigued happiness, of Hunk doling out food to sleepy band members._

_Then a shot of the stage again, the four of them lined up and grinning out at their fans. “Hi, I’m Shiro from Voltron, and welcome to the Blackout Tour.” Shiro grinned under a burst of silver stars_.

 

The wallscreen paused just as the stars were beginning to fade, and a huge cheer went up from around Coran’s ‘grand dining hall’ (name created by Coran himself).

“To Blackout!” the guests chorused, and then their voices devolved into cheers and whoops and laughter, the preview of their tour recordings fading to black. A shower of holographic fireworks went up inside the room, raining shining stars down over the gathering.

“Man, I can’t believe they finally released your tour movie thing,” Hunk said with a grin. They were all seated along the long length of Coran’s dining table, empty dessert bowls scraped clean before them. “There were a few moments where I thought, man, it’d be easier to just give it up.”

Next to Keith, Shiro laughed. “Yeah, but they’re experts. They got there in the end. And with your help, Hunk.”

Hunk scratched the back of his neck, looking embarrassed. “Nah, I just had a couple of videos here and there. Nothing huge.”

“Are you kidding?” Lance looked indignant. “You got all the good backstage stuff! People eat that _up_. Didn’t you see what happened with Keith’s video last year? It went viral!”

Keith nodded slowly, snuggling closer to Shiro. Shiro tightened his arm around Keith’s waist, making Keith’s heart turn slowly. He didn’t think he’d ever tire of the gesture. “Yeah, Hunk, you do good stuff. You should be proud.”

“Aw, thanks guys.” Despite the blush, Hunk _did_ look pleased with himself. “You guys deserve it though. Voltron worked so hard.”

On Keith’s other side, Pidge smiled, scrolling through her tablet. “Yeah, we did, didn’t we? Twitter’s going crazy; Wikipedia’s _just_ been updated, and the full documentary’s been out for like, a half hour.”

“A job well done, then,” Shiro said, sounding pleased.

“I suspect that much of the euphoria is the fact that people are hoping Keith will be in there,” Allura said, smiling.

Keith blushed. “I’m not _that_ popular. I’m still just one of your tech guys.”

Lance rolled his eyes. “C’mon, man, even I know that’s not true. People were all heart eyes over our rehearsal vid with you. ‘Who’s the cute guy?’” Lance imitated, pitching his voice higher. “‘Oh he sings _so_ pretty. I wonder if he’s single?’ Some of them sounded like _Shiro_ does.”

“Lance.” Shiro shifted next to him, and Keith couldn’t help but chuckle lightly at Shiro’s obvious discomfort.

“You do get a bit sappy, sometimes,” Keith said helpfully.

Shiro grumbled something that Keith couldn’t hear, but it didn’t matter anyway—not when Shiro pressed his lips gently to Keith’s hair.

“You know it’s true,” Keith said quietly.

“I know.” Shiro kissed him again, this time on the forehead. “And you should know that it’s only because you deserve it.”

Now it was Keith’s turn to be embarrassed. Shiro was _always_ like this. Always affectionate, but also respectful, and it made Keith feel safe. Well-loved.

It was an ongoing thing between the two of them, working on what they were comfortable with, and what they needed. Sometimes they weren’t quite on the same page, and Keith had to work on not backing off every time there was even the slightest disagreement, with Shiro promising to listen as best he could to know what Keith wanted or needed.

It wasn’t perfect. They still had a lot to work through, but…it was pretty damn close. Because every time Shiro held him, Keith knew that Shiro was with him one hundred per cent. Whenever Shiro kissed him, Keith felt his love, gentle and steady. And Shiro’s arm around his waist, or his fingers tangled with Keith’s own, sent a message too.

I’m here. I’m staying. I’ll protect you.

And all of that made Keith want to protect Shiro with everything that he had as well.

“You know I love you?” he asked quietly.

He heard Shiro’s smile with his reply, and it warmed his heart. “I love you too, Spitfire.”

“Keith, look!” Pidge shoved her tablet in his face, and Keith started when he was greeted with a picture of himself. “You’re on Wikipedia! You’ve made it.”

Keith blinked.

It was kind of surreal. On one hand, _anyone_ could get themselves on Wikipedia. On the other, Keith hadn’t been the one to do it, so that meant that strangers had compiled an entire article on him. Not a very long one, but still substantial.

Bizarre.

Keith took the tablet from Pidge with a frown. The main picture was a beautiful shot of him when he’d first sung on stage with the band; his face wasn’t even really visible, but his silhouette was lit up in very dim blue against the shadows of the stage. All the usual information was there…except for, of course, his early history.

It might never be there. But that was a thought for another day, and Keith found that at least today, he could scroll past that without too much trouble.

“They really went for it, didn’t they,” he murmured, surprised to find pictures of him backstage. The date of his first rehearsal video with Voltron and a link to the site, his active tour dates with the band, and someone had even managed to dig up his birthday.

“And look!” Pidge tugged her tablet back, scrolling down, before shoving the screen in front of Keith’s face again. “‘Personal life…’ He is currently dating Takashi Shirogane, lead singer of the pop group Voltron.’” Pidge grinned at the two of them. “Cute.”

It _was_ cute. Next to those simple lines—truths that meant everything to Keith now—was a picture of the two of them, hand-in-hand, wandering around in the new year’s market on Altea. It had been a good day, and the entire band had gone out. Keith had managed to get Shiro alone for almost an hour, and they didn’t let go of each other at all during that time.

“It is cute,” he agreed, smiling softly.

Lance groaned next to them. “Gross,” he muttered. “Pidge, did you have to bring that up?”

“I think it’s nice,” Hunk chimed in. “It’s sweet. And it’s a nice picture of you two.”

Shiro glanced at Keith, his arm tightening around Keith’s waist in the best of comforts. “It is. But are you comfortable with that being so public? We can always change it.”

“There will be someone to change it back, you can’t keep it hidden forever,” Allura pointed out.

Shiro frowned. “Still. I know you aren’t really comfortable with this whole public thing yet.” He pulled Keith closer, pressing his lips gently to his temple. “So we can change it until you can get used to it.”

Keith looked up at Shiro, leaning against him a little as a smile tugged at his lips. He was glad to be here; glad to love a man who would do so small a thing just to make sure Keith was happy and content. He was glad to be here, with people who he could call friends. The feeling warmed him, and it was starting to become something that was more familiar, something he hadn’t really felt before.

Home.

“No, keep it.” He smiled, loving Shiro with his whole heart, the feeling lighting up his soul like silver stars.

“I wouldn’t change a thing.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading. Please do let me know what you think, and give Law some love as well - she's put so much work into this and I am extremely blessed to get so much lovely art. 
> 
> You can share on [Tumblr](http://shiroganedefencesquad.tumblr.com/post/165171835044/blackout-and-silver-stars-my-submission-for-the) and [Twitter](https://mobile.twitter.com/starchydreams/status/906708129299128320). I would be very grateful if you did, and let me know what you think!!
> 
> Law's link are on [Tumblr](http://daimeiwakuvld.tumblr.com/post/165181453065/some-art-i-drew-for-psyraah-s) and [Twitter](https://twitter.com/d4imeiwaku/status/906814869965606913) again, please also check out the rest of her art in general, it is fantastic. 
> 
> I will also go back to posting childhood friend sheiths next week, so keep your eyes peeled for that :D


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